Deceiving Appearances
by Jessebeth
Summary: An accident in Challenger's Lab goes horribly wrong and two of the explorers find themselves in each other's shoes. Literally!
1. The Accident

Deceiving Appearances

The tree house was quiet. Too quiet. Marguerite Krux would have graciously welcomed a little noise, if it gave her any clue as to where Edward Malone had holed himself up. He had said he had some writing to do, but he wasn't at his desk.

"Malone?" she called tentatively, her voice carrying in the deep silence of the tree house.

After several seconds, a muffled, and rather annoyed voice, answered from beneath her feet. "What is it, Marguerite?"

Marguerite placed herself at the top of the stairs and yelled down in one of her sweetest voices. "I just thought I'd warn you that I'm having a bubble bath up here. Happy writing!"

"That should keep the choir boy downstairs," she muttered.

Marguerite smiled smugly to herself and made a bee-line for Challenger's laboratory. Finally she had the house to herself! Or mostly to herself and she had just dealt with Malone. Roxton, Veronica, and Challenger had left that morning to continue their unending search for the way off the plateau. Malone had been pardoned, unfortunately, from this outing as it was his turn to fix the water system, and it was badly in need of attention. Marguerite had had a little more trouble staying home, and she still didn't think her sore ankle routine had fooled Roxton. He was so damn suspicious of her all the time! Not that he didn't have his reasons. In fact, Marguerite was fairly pleased at how well she was able to manipulate the others, now if only she could do something about Lord John Roxton...

The inside of Professor George Challenger's laboratory would hardly of appeared impressive to any self-respecting English scientist back in London, but here in the middle of the prehistoric jungle it was a man-made wonder. All kinds of strange apparatuses hung from the bamboo walls, and the rough shelves were overflowing with hastily scribbled upon jars of colourful liquids. One whole wall was devoted entirely to a large chalkboard, which was suffocated with complicated formulas and a magnitude of exclamation points.

But Marguerite wasn't interested in any of these things, there was only one particular thing she was after. Immediately, her eyes were attracted to a rough box partially hidden beneath Challenger's worktable. Too easy, yet... She pulled the container out slowly, attempting to make as little noise as possible. It weighed a ton, and Marguerite was forced to drag it into the middle of the floor. Rolling up her sleeves, she opened the crate and peered inside. Just as she suspected, it was full of the stones the others were constantly hauling up here for the Professor. She dug hungrily into it, but her face quickly fell.

"Junk," she whispered sharply, "Figures they wouldn't make it that easy. I suppose it's a compliment."

Sighing, Marguerite dumped all the valueless rocks back into the crate and hid it back under the table. She straightened up and surveyed the rest of the room as she dusted off her hands.

"Now if I were the others, where would I hide them?" Marguerite knew only too well that the stones she was looking for weren't just out of sight, they were purposely hid. She had insisted that they were rightfully hers and honestly acquired, but Veronica asserted just as stubbornly that they belonged to a ridiculous little tribe that Marguerite had never even heard of. Valuable jewels that were left just lying about in a cave should be fair game to anyone who came along. What did it matter that Marguerite had heard about the sacred cave from the Zanga? _As if that curse over the entrance was anything more than an empty threat_, Marguerite thought with annoyance. Despite her protests, Roxton had restrained her while the others had wasted no time in removing them from her grasp. Veronica believed that out of sight meant out of mind, but when it came to Marguerite and precious gems, nothing could be more inaccurate.

"They've got to be here somewhere," she murmured.

The frustrated, but determined, heiress methodically searched the cluttered room. Every box, jar, and cranny was efficiently investigated but nothing of any value turned up. _They just have to be in this room_, Marguerite assured herself. _They've been purposely trying to keep me out of here! What those five know about deceit I could stick in a gnat's ear_, she mused.

Then her attention fell on one of Challenger's more recent experiments. It was a large opaque jar surrounded by charts and scribbled notes. Marguerite started to skip right over it but then she remembered that Challenger had never said what it was. Before he had left, he had gone on and on about not disturbing it to protect his fragile results but the long-winded visionary had never mentioned its purpose. Could the experiment just be a cover to keep Marguerite from finding the stones? Of course it was possible that Marguerite had simply tuned Challenger out, as she often did, while he had been explaining his newest endeavour but nothing ventured...

The jar made a shaking noise as she picked up, which Marguerite decided could easily be her newest expensive acquisitions calling to her. However, the jar's lid was stuck securely on, and Marguerite was forced to yank at with all the force she could muster. Suddenly, the lid popped off and Marguerite lost her balance. With all the gracefulness of a cat, the heiress was able to right herself before she fell but the jar's contents weren't so lucky. A dozen or so crystals, but definitely not of the valuable variety, came flying out of the jar and smashed on the hard wooden floor.

Marguerite stared at the destroyed whatever-it-was with a cringe and hastily returned the jar to its place on the worktable. She smoothed her hair away from her flushed face and reasoned, "Well, this just goes to show where little hiding games will get you."

Aware of the passage of time and beginning to feel terribly discouraged, Marguerite was about to give up when something caught her eye. In the far corner stood one of Challenger's older experiments, only it didn't look quite as old as it should have. There was no dust on it. If there was one thing that accumulated in great amounts in the lab, Marguerite was sure it was dust.

Smiling wickedly, she pushed the machine carefully out of the way. Behind it were a few empty boxes and one rather plain looking sack. Brimming with anticipation, Marguerite untied the bag's mouth. It was full of some sort of powder that looked like sand.

"Damn!" Marguerite cursed, she had been so sure it was in there. How could she not have found them? Challenger was terrible at hiding objects, and Malone and Veronica had little imagination when it came to such things. Roxton had never- Roxton! Suddenly an idea flashed through her head. Roxton hid his spare revolver in the dried corn, he said no one would ever find it there! Holding her breath, Marguerite reached deep into the sand and felt around. When her hand returned, a small bag was in her fist. It was full of colourful crystals that gleamed invitingly in the light.

"Oh John, you're so predictable." Only her wide grin stifled her self-satisfied laughter.

---

Malone winced as he incorrectly spelled an easy word. He scribbled it out, grimly adding it to the numerous blotches of ink that already littered his page.

"It's no use," he announced to the empty room. "I just can't concentrate."

And of course he knew the source of his distraction. Marguerite.

"What is she doing up there?" he had muttered countless times, as he heard a scraping or thumping noise. It was far too much noise for a mere bubble bath. The numerous things she could be doing haunted the back of his thoughts. His journals were on the top floor in the study, and he knew how she loved meddling in them. The upper level also housed some of the other explorers' bedrooms, which held their personal things. Not to mention the countless things that belonged to Veronica up there.

Finally, Malone could sit still no longer and he headed up the stairs. At first he gave little thought to the noise he was making but halfway up he thought better of it. If Marguerite was doing something wrong, and she probably was, then it was better if he caught her in the act. Marguerite was not what you'd call a poor liar. Besides, if she really was just bathing, then it was probably better if she never knew he had come up at all.

Malone made his way silently up the stairs and then rested soundlessly at the top. Hiding behind the wall, he watched as Marguerite came out of her bedroom, humming contentedly to herself, and disappeared into Challenger's laboratory. She didn't look the least bit wet and she certainly wasn't naked.

Still doing his best to be silent, Malone followed Marguerite to the Professor's workshop, and he paused in the doorway. Her back was to him, and she was in the process of moving one of Challenger's machines. He recognized the area immediately, she was trying to find the stones he and the others had hidden from her!

Malone leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe and said matter-a-factly, "I don't think Challenger would appreciate you bathing around his equipment, Marguerite."

She spun around so fast that he actually thought he might have given her a heart attack. Instead, her face slipped so quickly from guilty surprise to faint irritation, that Malone wasn't sure if the former expression had been there at all.

"You practically scared me to death!" Marguerite was such a domineering presence with her haughty expression and arms crossed over her chest, that Malone had to remind himself that she was in the wrong.

"Well maybe if you weren't snooping-"

"Snooping?" Marguerite rolled her eyes. "Really, Malone, what do you think could possibly be of any interest to me in here?" Before he could answer, she cut in again. "I heard a noise in here that's all. I just came to investigate."

It was Malone's turn to roll his eyes. "Oh, please. I know exactly what you were doing. You were looking for the Lanadu stones, which I might add we are returning to their cave."

Marguerite brushed past him into the common room. "Those trinkets?" she asked with a slight hint of disbelief, "You can stop worrying Malone. They're hardly worth my time." Her statement was followed by a bit of an arrogant laugh, which made Malone feel down right foolish.

Malone grumbled to himself as he worked on returning Challenger's machine to its original position.

"You can say what you like Marguerite. Everyone knows you'd sell us all down the river for less then those 'trinkets'."

Marguerite returned to the doorway her eyes aflame. "And what exactly were you doing pussy-footing around up here Malone? I distinctly remember telling you that I was going to have a bath." She shook her head, her smile knowing. "Tsk, Tsk, Neddy. What would Veronica think?"

Marguerite realized too late that this was one of those rare times when she was pushing Malone just a little too far. She was momentarily taken back as Malone's face turned red and he swivelled around to face her.

"Don't you-" Unfortunately, Malone never had a chance to finish his statement. As he turned to face Marguerite, his arm caught on the machine and it came crashing to the floor. At the same time, it lit up and something inside it began to whir.

"Malone! What have you done!"

"What have I done? If you hadn't-" Malone shook his head in frustration. "Just help me get it up."

Before the pair could even get a grip on the apparatus, the light grew brighter and something inside it began swirling out of control. A bright glowing light appeared in both Malone and Marguerite's chests and the latter let out a shriek.

"Malone!"

The glowing orbs jumped from their chests and they sagged to the floor knowing nothing but darkness.

---

When Malone opened his eyes, he was surprised to see the ceiling staring back at him. He always slept on his side. It was an odd reflection, but then again an odd thing had happened and it suddenly all came rushing back to him.

"Marguerite?" Malone asked.

At least he thought he had asked it, his voice didn't sound quite right. Almost as if it didn't belong to him at all. So he tried again.

"Marguerite, are you okay?"

There was definitely something wrong, his voice was a couple of shades too high and it had a different pitch to it. Still, he did recognize it.

Feeling dazed and more than a little confused, he pulled himself up onto his haunches and surveyed the lab. He was looking for Marguerite, only what he found was Malone. _Malone?_ His mind screamed the word.

Panic consumed him and Malone crawled slowly and shakily over to himself. Not knowing what to do, he turned his twin over and jumped as it gave a little groan. Then it spoke in a voice Malone had never heard outside his own head.

"What happened?" it asked groggily.

As soon as the words had left his counterpart's lips, its eyes jumped open and it pushed away from Malone in fear and panic. Its hands went to its throat and it gaped at him in disbelief.

"You're me! But that's imposs- What's wrong with my voice!" Malone's look-alike cried frantically in panic.

The room was beginning to spin, and Malone was feeling a little nauseous. If the other Malone thought he was himself, then who was he? The dizzy feeling increased and Malone's mind switched to a safer topic.

"Where's Marguerite?" Malone thought aloud.

Apparently, the other Malone had been wondering a similar thought.

"Where's Malone?" the twin asked in unison.

"What?" They asked each other at the same time.

More confused then ever now, Malone jumped up and ran for the hand mirror that he knew Marguerite kept in her room. He was beginning to get a sinking suspicion that...

He reached the mirror and gazed at his reflection. Only it wasn't the one he was expecting. Marguerite's astonished face was staring back at him.

To Be Continued...


	2. Taking Roles

"A process of elimination may be our only option, but I must say, I would prefer if there were less choices available. At this rate we're going to be on this plateau forever," Challenger grumbled as he stamped down the path.

Roxton, in the rear of their short procession, laughed. "I'm sure it will be in the last place we look, Professor."

Veronica smiled from her place in the lead. "I don't know, this place isn't so bad is it? Maybe you'll want to keep looking for a way off even after you've found one."

The explorer's pace was easy, there was no rush to return to the tree house as they had no idea what shape it would be in when they got there. Leaving Malone and Marguerite behind to butt heads unhindered by an audience had seemed like an good idea when the three adventurers had left, but now returning to an unrefereed battle field sounded less than appealing.

Roxton shook his head and raindrops from the thick canopy flew from his wide brimmed hat. "You say that now Veronica, but if you came to London, you might be whistling a different tune."

Veronica looked back at the two men and rolled her eyes. "What could they possibly have there that I don't have here?"

Challenger stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Let's see. Automobiles, airplanes, electricity, refrigerators, ground level housing..."

"And don't forget all the things London doesn't have," Roxton chimed in. "Apemen, dinosaurs, hostile tribes, man-eating flowers, super natural phenomenon..."

Veronica held up her hands in defence. "Okay, Okay. But I still think that if presented with the opportunity some of you might decide to stay."

Challenger smiled softly at Veronica. "Perhaps Summerly would have stayed, but the rest of us need only the slightest push to get us going, my dear."

"Challenger's right." Roxton nodded as they began walking again. "We all have our reasons to go home."

Veronica raised her eyebrows sceptically. "Namely..."

"Well, Challenger's discovery isn't much use if he can't tell the rest of the world about it. Isn't that right old man?"

Challenger nodded. "As petty and shallow as it seems, I came here to prove something to the zoological society, not just to myself."

Roxton continued, "And I do have my estate to go back to."

Veronica shrugged. "Property and fame. That's what is so important? What about your reasons for staying? Challenger, this is the study of a lifetime for you. What if you couldn't come back after you left? And Roxton, you're never going to find a better safari than this one. By the way, you still haven't bagged that T-rex you were going on about when you first got here. Then there's Marguerite, we still don't even know why she really came, how do we know she's ready to leave? And Malone, if you ask me I think he rather likes it here."

Roxton laughed behind her. "I wonder why?"

"You make good points Veronica, but I'm afraid that if we were presented with an opportunity, I think we'd all take it." Challenger replied. "Though, you know, I don't think anything odd has happened to us in quite some time. Maybe the rest of our existence on the Plateau is going to prove uneventful."

---

"How could this have happened!" Marguerite wailed, only the voice came from Malone's body.

"It must have been the machine, somehow it switched our bodies..." Malone faded off, contemplating the severity of the situation.

Marguerite slumped into a chair and crossed her legs, which looked quite odd coming from Malone's body. She put her face in her, or 'his' as the case may be, hands and they both lapsed into silence. Suddenly, Marguerite's head snapped up and she nodded to herself.

"Isn't that the machine that Challenger used to get rid of those spirits in the cave when they were posing as Adrienne and Maple White?"

Recognition slowly dawned on Malone's face. "Right! It drew the ghosts out of the walls and set them free." He snapped his fingers. "And what are ghosts but souls, or the person's essence if you rather."

Marguerite shook her head in disbelief. "Somehow it took our, I don't know, 'life forces' from our bodies and put them back in wrong when it stopped?"

Malone started back towards the laboratory. "Then the only thing to do is to turn it back on and hope it does the opposite."

Marguerite pulled herself shakily to her new man-sized feet. "Right."

They both stopped in their tracks as they heard the distinct rumbling of the elevator.

---

"You underestimate, my dear, the rather strong pull of home. It has actually been proven that..." Challenger trailed off as he stepped out of the elevator. Veronica followed, staring curiously at the Professor as he stopped abruptly.

Challenger looked from the frozen Marguerite to the frozen Malone and back. "Is something wrong? You two look like you've seen a ghost."

Marguerite scratched the back of her neck (in a very mannish manner) and looked guiltily down at her feet. Before she could say anything, however, Malone jumped in.

"A ghost? If only, it's been dreadfully boring around here. But now that you're back, you can tell us all about your trip. Isn't that right, _Marguerite?_" Malone scooped up Challenger's arm and began directing him briskly over to the table away from the slack-jawed Marguerite.

Marguerite stammered uncomfortably, "Well, I-"

Roxton filled the silence. "Dreadfully? Well, isn't that terribly English of you, Malone."

Malone shrugged and plopped down into one of the kitchen's chairs. His legs began to cross, but he quickly untangled them and slumped down in his seat.

"I guess you've left Marguerite and I alone so long, I'm beginning to pick up her mannerisms."

Roxton frowned, his eyes on Malone's tangled legs. "Maybe a little too many."

"Well I don't know about anyone else, but I'm exhausted," Challenger supplied, "I'm off to bed."

Veronica's eyes never left Malone as she nodded. "Me too. I'm sure we'll all feel better in the morning." She disappeared into her room while Challenger headed to his.

Silence enveloped the other three as they stood motionless in the small circular room. Marguerite shifted her weight from one foot to the other before turning away from the others.

"I need some air." she managed before vanishing in the direction of the balcony.

Roxton stared after her and put his rifle on the table. "A little fresh air certainly couldn't hurt."

"No!" Malone jumped up, nearly overturning the table. "What I mean is, I think she wants to be alone."

Roxton stared at his friend curiously. "I'll risk it." And with that he was gone.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," 'Malone' muttered as he slumped back into his chair and put his face in his hands. He snorted angrily as his fingers slipped through his terribly short hair.

---

Malone grasped the balcony's railing firmly with both hands as he stared out into the inky blackness of the jungle. He breathed in deeply of the cool night air as nausea threatened to overcome him.

Why had Marguerite lied to the others and pretended to be him? Malone had been so shocked by her taking on his persona that he had been unable to do anything but go along with it. After all, how did you tell your friends that you had an accident and, oops, you were in the wrong body? They would think he was mad, wouldn't they?

Malone pounded the railing with his fists in frustration and then examined his new petite, slender hands in disgust.

"I don't know, they look pretty good from where I'm standing."

Malone jumped at the deep, teasing voice behind him.

"Roxton!" Malone twisted around to see the hunter sidling slowly onto the balcony, his face hidden by his wide-brimmed hat and the evening darkness.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," Roxton said as he rested his arms on the railing. A little too close, Malone noted, for comfort. Roxton removed his hat and started playing with it between his hands. "But I would like to know what's going on," Roxton added, his eyes never leaving his hat.

"Going on?" Malone blurted out nervously, "Nothing's going on. Just a quiet evening at home. Nothing unusual at all."

Roxton's hat froze in his hands, and he looked up quizzically at Malone. Trying to be reassuring, Malone smiled back weakly.

"I guess I must have eaten something that didn't agree with me," He attempted. "Probably the eggs for breakfast. You know how Marguerite cooks..." Malone's voice faded away as he realized that he had just technically referred to himself self in the third-person.

The hunter straightened up slowly and his expression darkened, "All right Marguerite, no lies. What are you up to? If you did anything to poor Ned while we were gone-"

"Ned? No!" Malone interrupted, "Nothing happened. Really."

Roxton stared at Malone searchingly for another minute and Malone mentally cringed under the close scrutiny. "Alright, Marguerite. I believe you," Roxton finally said but his eyes were still wary.

"Umm. I think I should be getting to bed," the frazzled journalist said as he inched towards the inside of the tree house. While trying to walk backwards, Malone's foot misjudged and he tripped awkwardly on Marguerite's long skirt. "Uh, you know, beauty sleep and all that," he added as he recovered his footing and rushed off the balcony.

---

Roxton hadn't even leaned back onto the railing before he heard an angry shout from inside. He turned in time to see a very flustered Marguerite being pushed out of Malone's bedroom and in the direction of her own.

What was wrong with her? Roxton had never seen her so jumpy before. Instead of her usual smooth, cutting remarks, the heiress had practically fallen over every ungraceful word that she had said. And had she actually blushed when Roxton had stared at her? Something was definitely going on, but at the moment, Roxton wasn't sure that he wanted to know what it was.

To Be Continued...


	3. Sneaking Around

Chapter 3

The tree house was silent except for a faint snoring sound coming from the direction of Challenger's room. Marguerite tried to pad as quietly across the hard wood floor as possible but her over-sized, masculine feet kept getting in the way. _I'm as graceful as an elephant in this body_, Marguerite thought with irritation. A board squeaked nosily beneath her, and she paused. She held her breath, listening, but the snoring continued to drone on uninterrupted. Visibly relaxing, she made the rest of the way to her room and slipped inside.

"Malone?" Marguerite lit one of her lamps when she got no reply. The light flooded the

room and illuminated the bed, where Marguerite's body was peacefully sleeping away.

"How can he sleep at a time like this?" Marguerite mumbled as she approached the inert form. Malone was very soundly snoozing on his stomach, his slender arms sticking out from his body at awkward angles and a small trickle of drool escaping his full lips. Marguerite wrinkled her nose at this grotesque picture of herself.

"Beautiful dreamer you're not, Malone," she whispered as she tried to shake him to life.

Malone's eyes opened slowly as he turned toward the source of his rude awakening. Startled at seeing that it was in fact himself doing the shaking, he jumped out of the bed and landed with a loud thud on the floor.

"Malone!" Marguerite hissed sharply, "Do you want to wake up the entire jungle!"

Malone stood up quickly, nearly knocking into Marguerite in the process, and rubbed his eyes violently. "I forgot that- well, I mean it seemed like a bad dream. I-"

"Well, it wasn't!" Marguerite replied angrily, "but if you want to make it one I suggest we _quietly_ make our way to Challenger's lab."

"Fine!" Malone said groggily, "the sooner we switch back the better. As soon as I use the bathroom…"

"Don't even think about it!" Marguerite snapped, "keep your eyes on the prize." She shoved him towards the door as she added, "And your hands to yourself!"

As Malone was heading out the door and into the common room, Marguerite let out a short shriek behind him that forced him to spin around. "What? What's the matter?" he raced back into the room his eyes searching his body for harm.

Marguerite stared at him with fire in her eyes. "You ripped it!"

"What?"

"My skirt, there's a big rip in the back!"

Malone just stared at her in disbelief. "I guess I stepped on it. Let's go, we-"

"Stepped on it! Do you realize that that is the only good skirt I have left?"

Malone grabbed Marguerite's arms and tried to shake some sense into her. "We have no time for this!" Marguerite was too busy trying to get a look behind Malone at her damaged skirt to listen.

Trying one last time, Malone grabbed Marguerite's chin and forced her to look down into his new thickly eye-lashed eyes. "We have no time to discuss this! We have to do it before the others wake up!"

"Do what?" Veronica asked as she entered the bedroom, her face alternating between astonishment and anger.

Malone quickly dropped his arms and took a giant step away from Marguerite. His mouth hung open uselessly as he stared at the angry object of his affection.

"Well?" Veronica pressed, "What are you doing in Marguerite's room at one in the morning, Ned?"

Veronica was of course staring at Malone's body, but it was Marguerite's body, with poor Ned inside it, that automatically answered. "This isn't what you think Veronica. I was

just-"

"I didn't ask you!" Veronica snapped.

"I heard some noise. What's happening?" A haphazardly dressed Roxton demanded, as he raced into the room with a half-awake Challenger in tow. His expression of concern changed to confusion and then to suspicion as he noticed the two guilty looking occupants.

"Malone was just about to tell me what he was doing," Veronica explained through clenched teeth. All three pairs of eyes focused on Malone and inside his body, Marguerite wilted under their gaze. _If only I could remember all the reasons men ever had for being in my room at night, beside the obvious_, Marguerite thought sarcastically. She glanced at Malone for help but all she saw was her own body staring back at her blankly.

"I, ah…" Marguerite's mind raced desperately within Malone's body but the menacing scowl that Roxton was focusing on her had her rattled. "I…broke one of Challenger's experiments."

The others stared at her with puzzled frowns. "What?" Veronica demanded.

"Yes, I know Challenger said not to touch it but I was looking at his container and, stupid me, I dropped it. The contents went spilling everywhere."

"What? No I-er- you didn't!" Malone protested but the others ignored him.

Roxton stepped threateningly toward Marguerite, blocking her view of Malone. "But that still doesn't explain what you're doing in Marguerite's room," he growled.

Marguerite's eyes widened slightly but she swallowed and continued. "Well, Marguerite heard the crash and came to investigate. We didn't have time to clean it up so we were going to do it now and no one else would have to know I was fiddling with Challenger's experiment."

Roxton's eyes narrowed slightly and he asked in disbelief, "And Marguerite was helping you out of the goodness of her heart?"

Now it was Marguerite's turn to narrow her eyes, "What is that supposed to mean? For your information, Marguerite is a very considerate person."

"Give me a break," Malone muttered from behind the other tree house occupants, and they all turned to look at him.

"Is this true Marguerite?" Challenger asked.

Malone hesitated, not wanting to implicate himself in this ridiculous scenario, but Marguerite raised her eyebrow at him expectantly. "Yes," Malone sighed, "we were just going to quietly clean up."

Challenger broke the uneasy silence. "Well, now that the cat is out of the bag it is probably best to leave the tidying until tomorrow. I suggest we _all_ go back to bed, but I must say Malone that I am disappointed that you disregarded my warning about touching my experiment."

In Marguerite's body, Malone flinched, but Marguerite merely nodded repentantly.

Roxton, Challenger, and Veronica filed out of Marguerite's room. They looked back inside and Marguerite jumped before coming out into the common room to join them. "Right," she said, "Back to _my_ room."

Veronica darted Marguerite an angry glance as she left. _Geez, even when I'm her precious Malone that girl doesn't like me_, Marguerite reflected.

Before she could head for Malone's room, Roxton grabbed her roughly by the arm and glared at her. _Funny how he's more scary even though I'm closer to his size_, she thought.

"I suggest you stay in your _own_ room for the rest of the night, Malone," Roxton said meaningfully and then he sauntered off.

Marguerite entered Malone's room and collapsed onto the bed. _Well_, she decided, _apparently excessive back hair is not the only drawback to being a man_.

---

A bright streak of sunlight fell across Marguerite's eyes and sneaked in beneath her eyelids. She slowly opened them with a leisurely stretch and saw…Malone's room. She groaned and buried her face in the pillow. _Malone had the right idea_, she decided, _this should all just be a bad dream_.

Distant voices stirred her from her self-pity, and she realized that she had to get up or risk Malone making a complete fool of himself with the others. Standing up she looked down at the rumpled clothes that she had slept in and frowned. What was she going to wear? Marguerite walked over to the trunk in the corner and opened it. Inside, Malone's clothes were carefully folded and arranged in neat piles. Smirking, Marguerite picked out the first pair of pants she found and then began to look for a shirt to match but caught herself. _Style is not an issue here Marguerite, just get dressed and then get out of this body_!

Marguerite changed quickly. As she went to put the fresh shirt on, she stopped to admire her new well-shaped biceps. _Not bad for a reporter_, she thought approvingly.

Marguerite, washed and dressed, stepped confidently out into the common room and headed for the kitchen. Her heart sunk as she saw that everyone, except Malone, was sitting around the table eating. She straightened her back and prepared to meet the lions.

"Good morning, everyone," Marguerite said with forced cheerfulness. Challenger smiled back weakly, Roxton stared at his food, and Veronica looked away.

_Well, I'm glad I'm not going to be Malone much longer_, Marguerite thought as she grabbed some fruit. As she was popping some into her mouth she asked, "Has anyone seen Marguerite yet?"

Roxton's head jerked up. "Why?" he asked warningly.

"Uh, no reason. Just being polite." Marguerite sat down at the table, as far away from Roxton as possible, and chewed in silence.

After a few awkward minutes, Malone emerged from Marguerite's room. His clothes were all crumpled and his hair frizzed around his face. Everyone's jaw dropped at the same instant, including Marguerite's.

"Marguerite?" Roxton exclaimed.

"Are you-did you sleep in your clothes?" Veronica asked.

Malone stopped and stared sheepishly down at his appearance. "Well, I-I was exhausted last night," he stuttered. When no one replied, he went passed them into the kitchen and started filling a plate with a very-unladylike amount of food.

The three explores, who all thought the bedraggled new arrival was the ever-poised Marguerite, stared at each other until Veronica spoke up.

"Maybe we could go to the bathing lake together after breakfast, Marguerite." The blond beauty looked Marguerite up and down appraisingly. "I think we could both use a good bath."

Malone sat down and smiled wolfishly at Veronica. "Sure that sounds like a great idea," he replied.

"No!" Marguerite exclaimed and then regretted her outburst as the others turned to stare at her. "Er- what I mean is Marguerite and I need to clean up the mess in Challenger's lab first."

Challenger shook his head, "Nonsense, Malone. That can wait until later."

"_No_ it can't Challenger," Marguerite said while staring pointedly at Malone, who was trying not to get any of his long hair in the food.

"Well, you know _Malone_," Malone said with a mischievous smile, "It was _you_ who dropped Challenger's experiment so _you_ could clean it up while I'm at the lake with Veronica."

Malone's self-satisfied smile quickly wilted under Marguerite's murderous look.

"_Or_ I could help you and it would go much faster," he said, pushing away from the table.

"Right now?" Challenger asked as Malone and Marguerite headed for the lab.

"You know what they say George," Marguerite answered, "Don't put off to tomorrow…"

Once they were out of earshot, Marguerite said to Malone, "Well, I'm glad to see that

you're keeping up with my impeccable grooming habits."

"It was either this or going where I have never gone before, Marguerite. Something I see you had no problems with."

Marguerite smiled sweetly at him, "Nothing I haven't seen before Neddy, but good choice on your part."

Once Marguerite and Malone had disappeared farther into the tree house, the others found it safe to resume the conversation that Malone's earlier entrance had interrupted.

"Now I'm absolutely sure of it, something happened while we were gone and they're hiding it from us," Veronica huffed.

"Now, now," Challenger soothed. "Last night's episode turned out to be perfectly innocent, Veronica."

Roxton stood up and took his empty plate into the kitchen. "Innocent? Maybe. But _plausable_? Malone is not the sort of person who fools around with other people's property George, that's something our dear Marguerite would do." Roxton returned to the table and turned his chair around, straddling it thoughtfully. "And come to think of it when is the last time Marguerite offered such selfless help to anyone? She's the first one who would be thrilled to tell you about your broken experiment and bath in the resulting conflict it would cause."

Challenger stroked his chin and stared uncomfortably at his food. "Perhaps, but other than my broken experiment nothing seems to be wrong. What have we to accuse them of? They could be telling the truth you know."

"Maybe," Veronica sighed and leaned back in her chair, "but Marguerite and Malone are still acting like totally different people."

Suddenly, the group's discussion was interrupted by loud footsteps heading rapidly in their direction. Malone arrived at the table first, his eyes wide and urgent.

"Where is your spirit machine!" he demanded abruptly as Marguerite joined him, her face worried.

Challenger looked questioningly at the other explorers. "My what?"

Malone rolled his eyes in impatience, "The one you used in the cave to free the souls of the criminals sentenced there. Remember? One of them pretended she was my-Marguerite's friend Adrienne? And Maple White."

"Oh yes, of course. We moved it. Before the two of you got up. Why?"

"Where did you take it?" Marguerite asked, obviously hanging on Challenger's every word.

"Well, down to the bottom of the tree. Not very far-"

Marguerite and Malone were already to the elevator. As they both crammed into the confined space and Marguerite grabbed hold of the lever that would send the apparatus in motion, Challenger added: "What do you want that broken thing for?"

Marguerite's hand slipped dejectedly off the lever. "Broken?"

"Are you sure?" Malone chimed in.

Challenger nodded, puzzled. "Yes, it seems to have gotten bumped or something. I noticed it this morning when I checked on the experiment you dropped. No use having faulty equipment taking up room. But I don't understand…"

Marguerite sighed and started to head back for the lab and the broken experiment that _still_ hadn't been cleaned up. "We just noticed it was missing and thought it might be useful or something," Malone said before turning to follow Marguerite.

The three explorers at the table exchanged puzzled looks for the umpteenth time that morning, as the sources of those looks disappeared into the lab.

"Marguerite," Roxton called after her, "I'm not sure if you know this, but you have a big rip in the back of your skirt."

The only reply was a very loud outpouring of frustration that sounded like it came from Malone.

To Be Continued...


	4. At The Lake

Malone watched with a slight feeling of detachment while his body paced restlessly back and forth across the laboratory floor. The infamous ruined experiment still lay where it had fallen as the two desperate partners in crime tried desperately to think of some way out of their predicament.

"I think you're wearing out my knees," Malone said to the moving figure before him, but all he got in return was a dirty look, which was more odd than threatening coming from his own face.

Marguerite abruptly stopped pacing. "This is simple, all we have to do is fix the machine."

Malone nodded. "It's our only option, besides getting used to our new genders." He started to move for the stairs. "I'll go get Challenger and I'm sure he can-"

"No!" Marguerite cried, stepping in front of him, "That is absolutely out of the question!"

Malone's brow furrowed, and he said in frustration, "What are you talking about? We have to tell them. Why shouldn't we tell them?"

"Well, for one thing, stop doing that to my forehead you're giving me wrinkles," Marguerite scolded. Malone turned back toward the stairs but Marguerite caught his arm.

"It's too late Malone! We already played along with it, it would be too awkward now."

"More awkward then this!" Malone gestured angrily at his feminine body. "What are you going to do? Fix the machine yourself?"

"Of course not!" Marguerite rolled her eyes. "_You're_ going to do it. Now all we have to do is get them to leave us alone and-"

"Whoa! Wait a minute!" Malone protested, "I can't fix it!"

Marguerite glared at him in annoyance, "You fixed the electric fence when Challenger's heart stopped. You fixed the plane that German pilot crashed. A machine is a machine, Malone."

"Marguerite, it's not that simple. I can't-"

"In the meantime," Marguerite interrupted, "We need to get you dressed properly before Scotland Yard up there gets even more suspicious."

Marguerite was already heading up the stairs before Malone could stop her with his protests. He followed right behind her with the impossibility of this task on the tip of his tongue and bumped into her when she stopped abruptly at the top.

Challenger was there smiling at them both. "Ah, done are you? Good. Roxton and I are ready to go whenever you are Malone."

Marguerite gave him a confused stare. "Go? Go where?"

Behind Challenger, Roxton had already shouldered his knapsack and was getting his rifle off the gun rack.

"To the windmill of course," Challenger answered, donning his hat, "Lots of manual labour to get of the way."

Marguerite just stood at the top of the stairs like a statue frozen in stone. "Manual labour?" she echoed.

Malone snickered behind her.

While Challenger piled supplies into Marguerite's disbelieving arms, Veronica had gathered her own things and approached Malone.

"Ready for that swim?" She asked, "We can join the boys later and give them a break."

"You bet," Malone answered, slipping past Marguerite.

As Marguerite rode down the elevator, loaded down with heavy equipment, the last thing she saw was Malone's, or rather her own, face. A big Cheshire cat smile was stretched across it, which Malone felt was fitting as he had seen Marguerite use that same smile on him dozens of times.

---

It was a perfect jungle day. It wasn't too hot, the sunlight was golden, and there was a slight refreshing breeze. Best of all, Malone was spending it with the most beautiful girl in the world. _If only Marguerite didn't have to come along_, he thought moodily as his petite feet stumbled over the too large strides he was trying to take.

Veronica and Malone were walking down the well-worn path that led them to the bathing lake. Much to Malone's dismay, Veronica had spent the entire trip walking a few strides ahead and had barely said two words to him. Malone was used to smiles and companionship when he was with Veronica but right now all he was getting was tension.

Bored by the lack of conversation, Malone let his mind wander back to the tree house before he and the others had left. Marguerite had been able to convince their housemates that she needed to check something in her journals and that Malone needed to fix his disheveled appearance before either of them went anywhere. They were still suspicious, but Roxton and Challenger had went down the elevator and Veronica had removed herself to her room to wait. This gave Marguerite the opportunity to sneak into her own room, for the second time in so many days, and help Malone get her body ready.

"Alright Malone," Marguerite said, placing a pile of clothes before him, "Don't worry about the undergarments, just change into these. I thought _pants_ might be a better choice this time."

Malone stared down at the small clothes and he ran his hands through his tangled raven locks nervously. "No problem," he said.

"Oh and Malone," Marguerite added, "try to not to touch anything. As much as possible!"

Malone replied with an agitated half-grin and then just stood staring at the clothes.

"Well," Marguerite pushed, "they're just clothes, Malone. Same as yours only smaller. And nicer and-"

"If you would stop talking and turn around this would go a lot smoother," Malone interrupted, his hands posed over the fragile buttons of his blouse.

Marguerite gaped at him. "I assure you Malone, I am quite familiar with everything

you-"

"Marguerite!"

"Alright, alright!" With a healthy eye-roll in his direction, Marguerite turned around and crossed her arms over her chest.

When she turned back, she had to laugh at the very embarrassed, ruffled Malone in front of her. "What's the matter, Malone?" she cracked, "Didn't they teach you how to dress a woman in boy scouts?"

Malone clenched his jaw and tried to push past her.

"Ah, ah," Marguerite insisted. "You're still a mess, just a minute." Marguerite quickly went to work at straightening Malone's clothes and fixing his wild hair.

As he stood there helplessly, he couldn't help but think of what a strange picture they made. What would anyone think walking in on Malone's body fussily combing through Marguerite's hair? He decided that it was a very good thing that Roxton was far below the tree house.

While she worked, Marguerite chatted away with advice for Malone's approaching time without her. "Now remember, no one can know what happened. They probably wouldn't believe you anyway. It's best that-"

"Can't I do up my shirt any farther?" Malone interrupted, looking down at the exposed cleavage. "I don't think I like what I'm advertising."

Marguerite gave him a weary glance. "It's always done well for me in the past but if you must be a prud…" she trailed off as she obligingly did up the shirt's top buttons for him.

"_Anyway_," she continued, "remember to treat Veronica like a friend not a girlfriend."

"She's not-" Malone protested, but Marguerite ignored him.

"And try not to spend any alone time with Roxton, just in case-"

_I do not want to know what the 'just in case' is_, Malone groaned inwardly.

"-and for goodness sake, don't be nice to him!"

Malone pulled Marguerite's knee length coat over his well-highlighted, curved body self-consciously and asked, "Why not?"

Marguerite arched an eyebrow at him and headed towards the door.

"I'd wear those suspenders if I were you," Malone called after her, looking at the loose straps that hung at Marguerite's waist.

She looked back at him with displeasure as she awkwardly tried to get the elastic straps over her broad shoulders. Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrows at her. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Well, here we are."

Malone jerked back tothe presentat the sound of Veronica's voice. They had finally made it to the lake and the jungle beauty was settling down on a grassy patch on the bank. Not knowing what else to do, Malone sat down beside her. It took him a moment to find a comfortable way to adjust his legs but at least he wasn't wearing that damn skirt any longer. He glanced over at Veronica and jumped as he realized she was staring at him in annoyance.

"Well, Marguerite?" she asked. "Aren't you going to go first?"

"First?" Malone managed.

Veronica sighed and stared into the lake. "Well you do always insist on it and you do take the longest so…"

"Right," Malone agreed slowly, "but I think I'll let you go first this time." He wasn't so sure he wanted to get undressed after the hassle it was getting this way in the first place. Besides, he was sure that undressing Marguerite's body was against one of Marguerite's unwritten rules.

Veronica cast him a quick, puzzled glance and then returned her pretty blue eyes to the still water's surface. The tension built between them until Malone thought he would burst.

Finally, Veronica said, "I saw Malone coming out of your room this morning before he left."

_Thanks a lot Marguerite_. "Uh, he was-" Malone started weakly.

"Don't bother, Marguerite," Veronica interrupted harshly. "I am getting pretty tired of your ridiculous stories. I don't care what's going on but why don't you just drop the charade?"

Malone flinched. It wasn't as if Veronica had never been cross at him before or spoke to him in anger, but he had always felt as if it would pass. Like he could redeem himself and she didn't really want to be upset with him. This Veronica was cold and detached, as if she expected a fight whenever she spoke to him.

When Malone didn't say anything, Veronica's face softened and her eyes grew distant. "I don't know what's wrong with Ned, but…" Her voice trailed off, and Malone thought he saw some moisture in the corner of her eye.

His heart ached painfully, and he forgot everything that was going on. All that mattered was that Veronica was in pain and he was the cause.

"Veronica, there is absolutely nothing going on between Mar-Malone and me. How could there be with as beautiful, strong, amazing woman as you living only a few rooms down from him?"

Veronica shook her head and moved to get up. "There's no need to be patronizing, Marguerite."

Before she could move, Malone grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him. Feeling confidence surge through him from the detachment of referring to his feelings in the third person, Malone reached up to touch her face. He looked into her eyes and said, "You're the only reason he has for living each day, Veronica. If it wasn't for you Malone would hole up in his room and spend all his waking hours in the safety of his journals. You give him a reason to really live, for the first time in his life."

As Malone lost himself in Veronica's wide eyes, he felt himself gravitating towards her. Suddenly, she jerked away from his hand and jumped up with a disbelieving expression on her face. "I don't know what's going on, Marguerite," Veronica bit out, her voice changing from shock to menace, "but just stay away from Malone!"

Shestomped away into some nearby bushes, calling out as she disappeared, "I think I will go first after all."

With a frustrated sigh, Malone leaned back in the grass and stared at the sky. Some curly, dark hair blew in his face, and he moaned in discontent to see that even his view of the heavens had changed. _How am I going to fix this?_

The distraught journalist heard a muffled splash in the distance and reddened at the thought of Veronica bathing so near him. _Well_, he thought resignedly, _I hope Marguerite is having more luck then I am_.

To Be Continued...


	5. The Fight

_Well_, Marguerite thought bitterly, _I hope Malone is having as bloody awful time as I am. _

The exhausted heiress had never worked so physically hard in her life. While Challenger tinkered away with the finer points of his precious windmill, Roxton and Marguerite had been lugging branches, cutting planks, and stretching tarp. The industrious lord had been working non-stop since they had arrived, and the worst part was that he expected Marguerite to keep up with him! Not only was she expected to get dirty and sweaty but also Roxton seemed to be working some of last night's aggression out on her. Logs were thrown, not passed, by the miffed hunter.

A dark, angry cloud hung over Marguerite's head as she walked back and forth across the field but it did little good. While Marguerite's sour moods never failed to get a reaction out of Roxton, apparently he couldn't care less about Malone's temperament. Nor did he care when she had to extract nasty looking splinters or when chunks of wood bruised her toes. Occasionally he would throw her a distracted "Are you all right?" but he rarely stayed within earshot long enough to hear her answer.

Marguerite was a tough dame who could hold her own in any situation but she was also used to manipulating those situations to make them easier. Roxton's utter lack of sympathy for Malone's fatigue gave her nothing to play with.

Just refusing to work had crossed Marguerite's black thoughts several times but she realized that shirking physical labour was not a very Malone-like action. While she didn't care one whit about Malone's reputation, she didn't want Roxton asking any prying questions. To avoid suspicion, she continued to plough through the monotonous work while imagining new ways to insert the wooden planks in Challenger and Roxton's smiling faces.

Finally, Marguerite's murderous temper got the better of her. Roxton had thrown her a log that had scraped across her arm and had given her a new nasty splinter. While she gingerly examined the agitated area, Roxton threw her the next piece of rough wood which hit her sharply in the stomach.

"That's it!" Marguerite exclaimed, throwing down the offending lumber. "I'm not doing this anymore!"

Roxton, who was still busily moving wood, froze in mid-throw and placed his own log on the ground.

Worked into a boil now, Marguerite tore off her work gloves and started to storm off, heading for the nearby stream.

"Where are you going?" Roxton demanded. "Malone!"

Marguerite ignored him and picked up speed in an attempt to work out her fury on her long strides. She soon heard Roxton behind her. He caught up to her with loud clumping that she noted, with dismay, matched her own masculine walk. Realizing that even in Malone's body she couldn't outrun him, Marguerite stopped abruptly under a large tree and crossed her arms over her chest.

"What was that all about?" Roxton asked calmly. He came up beside Marguerite and started wiping his brow with his handkerchief.

"That? Oh, nothing," Marguerite steamed. "I have more wood in me than that damned windmill but everything's fine!"

She started rubbing fiercely at her newest injury, while Roxton stared at the small patch of red skin in puzzlement.

"Is that all? Just get Veronica to rub some salve on it when we get back to the tree house and it will be as good as new," he said with a teasing wink.

Marguerite turned on him angrily. "Well thank you, Doctor. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"I just-" Roxton tried to get out, shocked by Marguerite's, or what he though was Malone's, violent reaction.

"Please, spare me," Marguerite interrupted. "I have had more than enough of your _help_ for today." She once again began to head for the stream but she couldn't resist turning around one more time to glance at the astonished Roxton. "Please feel free to knock someone else around while I'm gone," she bit off.

Marguerite smiled grimly to herself at finally having blown off some steam. Before she could create much distance between herself and the hunter, however, he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"Careful Malone," Roxton warned, his voice low. "Just remember you started this whole thing in Marguerite's room back at the tree house."

"What!" Marguerite only backed down from Roxton on very rare occasions, and after the morning she had had, this wasn't one of them. She straightened up, looked Roxton in the eyes, and in her most menacing voice said, "_Let go of my arm_."

Roxton returned her stare for several seconds and then released her arm. However, instead of stepping back, he gave her a bitter grin and pushed her roughly away from him. Pushed her! They had had their share of nearly violent arguments but he had never dared to-. Marguerite caught her balance and stood motionlessly in shock.

"Walk away, Malone," Roxton told her and he began to follow his own advice.

But Marguerite's temper was just getting started. She quickly closed the gap between the two of them. "If you ever touch me again-" Marguerite didn't wait to finish her own threat but interrupted by slapping Roxton square across the face.

It was something that she had done before but never as Malone. Roxton was taken back by the slap, but, with practice, he was getting better at recovering from Malone's odd behaviour. He responded almost automatically, but disproportionately, by punching Marguerite square in the face.

She was pushed away from him in the momentum and fell to the ground. When she quickly got back up, Roxton was ready for a fight but Marguerite had another surprise for him. She was holding her face and crying out, "_You hit me_! You _idiot_! You hit me!"

When Marguerite made no move to attack him, Roxton relaxed his muscles and regarded her awkwardly.

"Um, are you alright?" he asked sheepishly.

"_Alright_? How could I be alright? You hit me in the _face_!"

"Well you hit me!" Roxton started but the anger dissolved from his features. "Malone, this is ridiculous. What are we even fighting about?"

The intense fire in Marguerite's eyes masked the tears that threatened to form there. "You hit me! _Remember_!"

"Let's just forget the whole thing," Roxton offered, trying to recover from the most uncomfortable fistfight he had ever had in his life.

When Marguerite looked like she was going to do the exact opposite of just forgetting about it, Roxton quickly inserted, "No harm done or at least nothing a little soap and polish won't fix. Hey, I'll race you to the stream."

Roxton started slowly heading in that direction, looking over his shoulder at the flustered Marguerite. Not knowing what else to do, as she had little experience at being punched by a fellow man, Marguerite squared her shoulders and stormed past him.

When the two 'men' got to the stream, Marguerite bent low over the water to avoid looking at Roxton. She scrubbed irritably at the grime on her hands and neck. She still felt like contributing a few scathing remarks to the confrontation but the throbbing in her face stilled her sharp tongue. In words, Marguerite could beat Roxton to the ground and kick him while he was down but with fists? She wasn't so sure.

The tension between the two explorers was thick, and Marguerite was satisfactorily aware of Roxton's discomfort. The hunter took a long, slow swig from his canteen and then silently offered it to the crouching Marguerite. She gave him a pointed glare in return and then returned to violently scrubbing her neck.

She stopped abruptly when she heard Roxton give a deep, throated chuckle behind her. "Does something amuse you?" she asked, turning to look up at him.

He was staring into the distance and shaking his head in grim amusement. "I was just thinking about how many arguments we would all avoid if it weren't for the lovely Miss Krux."

Gritting her teeth, Marguerite tried to ignore him but Roxton persisted.

"Whatever it is that Marguerite did-" She opened her mouth to protest but Roxton continued with out pause, "-or _didn't _do, it's not worth fighting over."

"Of course not." Marguerite whipped the excess water off of her hands and stood up stiffly. "What does it matter what Marguerite does? Her sole purpose in life is merely to cause problems, wind us up, and generally ruin everything."

Roxton confused her sarcasm with Malone's usual cynicism concerning Marguerite.

"That may be what she often sets out to do to turn things in her favour, but it never finishes that way. She can never quite go through with it."

Roxton's exposed comment hit Marguerite harder than the punch of just moments ago.

"Is that what you really think?" Marguerite asked quietly.

"I think that there is more to Marguerite Krux than anyone realizes. More than even she realizes. It's difficult to get to under all those layers of self-protection but I figure it's worth waiting for."

Marguerite turned to face Roxton and tried to find the honesty she heard in his voice matched in his eyes.

"Lord Roxton," she started as evenly as she could, "don't tell me you've become emotionally involved."

Roxton smiled crookedly and screwed the cap back on his canteen. "Now is not the time to recount my old bullet wounds, Malone."

Confused, Marguerite's mind suddenly latched onto a not-too-distant memory. _A small jail cell, Roxton bleeding from a gunshot wound in the chest, herself leaning over to gently kiss him._

"Wait, you told Malone about that!"

Fortunately, Roxton's attention was elsewhere and he didn't hear Marguerite's embarrassed exclamation. He was busy listening to something in the distance.

"I think Veronica and Marguerite are here, speak of the devil. C'mon let's go have some lunch." Roxton punched Marguerite playfully in the shoulder and headed off towards the windmill before he could see her grimace of pain.

Marguerite followed reluctantly, mentally rubbing her bruised ego and physically rubbing her shoulder. _Overgrown Neanderthal_, she vented mentally, _I bet I could have taken him._

---

"Well you certainly couldn't have picked a better day for a swim," Challenger remarked cheerfully. The scientist was putting his best effort toward making things more comfortable, but, try as he might, tension still pulsed in the air.

The newly arrived women hadn't said a dozen words between them since they had emerged out of the jungle. Veronica was testily spreading out the group's lunch on a makeshift table, while Marguerite paced restlessly.

Challenger's comment was acknowledged only by a brief dejected look from Marguerite, who then returned her frustrated eyes back to the task of following Veronica's movements.

Suddenly, the two younger men of the expedition appeared in the field from the direction of the stream. Challenger raised his hand in relieved greeting and nodded at the food as they walked up.

"You made it just in time," Challenger said.

"So it appears," Roxton answered, doffing his hat to the women. "It smells wonderful."

Challenger quickly chimed in, "Doesn't it? Veronica's culinary talents have prepared us quite a feast, wouldn't you say _Malone_?" With this last emphasis, Challenger turned eyes meaningfully on Malone, who was rubbing his arm distractingly.

Malone continued to examine his inflictions. "Ah, sure Challenger. The food smells great."

Roxton circled the table, looking for a stool, and smiled slyly. "The food? Oh yes, that smells inviting too," he said as he passed behind Marguerite and settled down beside where she was already seated. All Roxton's comment got from Marguerite was an exasperated look, however. He grabbed a piece of fruit off of her plate and took a loud, agitated bite.

Malone moved to sit beside Marguerite but Challenger jumped in front of him and grabbed the rough, homemade stool first. By forcing Malone to sit between himself and Veronica, the practical professor hoped to just make this whole inexplicable mess go away.

"Well," Challenger began, as the uncomfortable dining companions started into the lunch, "I think we're quite a bit ahead of schedule. I don't think we'll have to work nearly as long as I originally estimated."

Beside him, Malone loudly slammed his cup onto the table. "Peachy," he said, his eyes raising to stab at Marguerite, "I guess that means the _girls _will hardly have to help at all."

The smile fell from Challenger's face, but he quickly replaced it with another, if less bright, one. "Yes, well…" he decided to try a new angle, "How was the water this morning ladies?"

"Cold," Marguerite mumbled with a crestfallen glance at Veronica.

"You know Malone," Veronica angrily blurted out, as if Challenger and Marguerite had never spoken, "If you're too tired to do a little work, you could always head back to the tree house with Marguerite."

All the other heads at the table, which had been previously focused on their plates, jerked to attention.

Malone looked at Veronica in shock but his expression slipped so quickly to haughty anger that Challenger wasn't sure if the former expression had been there at all. Malone threw down the food he was eating and squarely met Veronica's gaze.

"Maybe I'll do just that!" Malone hissed.

"Hey!" Marguerite interjected, "Don't take that tone with her!"

Malone swung his malicious gaze to the other side of the table. "I'll do whatever I damn well please! You can't begin to even imagine the rubbish I've gone through for you today!"

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Roxton asked, distributing his regard between Malone and Marguerite.

"Calm down everyone!" Challenger interrupted loudly. "You're all acting like spoiled children!"

"No," Veronica insisted, "go ahead Malone. At least we're finally hearing how you really feel!"

"Oh, I haven't even begun!" Malone returned.

"No, you're finished!" Marguerite exclaimed, pushing away from the table, "One more word and I swear-"

Malone mimicked her abrupt rise from the table and leaned forward, the muscles in his arms flexing meaningfully. "Or you'll what, _Marguerite_?"

"Now just a minute-" Roxton began, but he never completed his warning sentence because 'Malone' had apparently had enough. The young journalist pulled back and then punched Roxton so hard in the face that the surprised lord and his chair fell backward into the grass.

"Now we're even!" Malone exclaimed triumphantly, as the remaining seated explorers jumped up with alarm.

Malone barely got his revengeful statement out before a seething Roxton reappeared from behind the table. The fury in the hunter's eyes physically pushed Challenger back, but the visionary was quick to respond to the murderous implications.

"Roxton, no!" Challenger lunged at Roxton and tried to restrain him as Malone backed away from the table in surprise.

"Let me go, Challenger!" Roxton bellowed but Challenger held the younger man tightly. Marguerite, too, grabbed onto Roxton, and Veronica, as angry as she was at Malone, stepped into Roxton's intended path.

Roxton looked in turn at his three friends in frustration and then sagged in defeat. At Roxton's relaxing, Challenger allowed the lord to pull away from him. The fire still burning in his eyes, Roxton glared at Malone and began walking in the opposite direction of the tensed reporter. Veronica followed suit and stormed off after casting Malone a scathing glance. Overwhelmed with anger and fear, Malone too headed off in another direction, leaving Challenger and Marguerite alone with their shocked expressions.

"Now," Challenger muttered darkly, "what was I saying about it being such a nice day?"

To Be Continued….


	6. Kidnapped

The elevator creaked, with painful slowness, upwards toward the cheerfully lit tree house. The cramped space of the claustrophobic box was that much smaller due to its tense occupants. Marguerite stared, through Malone's baby blues, at the ceiling, and Malone's gaze was riveted on the floor. Both the opinionated heiress and elocutionary journalist were simply at a loss for words.

The afternoon had actually been surprisingly quiet. After the little lunch incident, the explorers had all retreated to their own pursuits in the clearing and generally worked on avoiding each other. Challenger, disappointed with his dismal mediating skills, kept to the small radius around his windmill, tweaking what he had already tweaked at least three times. Roxton and Veronica worked out their aggression on the rest of the wood that needed to be cut and hauled, plus some. Marguerite and Malone's body retreated to the stream while Malone took Marguerite's body into the surrounding jungle.

As the late afternoon light began to fail, the estranged companions silently headed back to the tree house in a widely dispersed line. All of them except for Roxton, who was nowhere to be found. After a half-hearted search, the almost relieved group left without the angry hunter. The march back was anything but comfortable but at least another blow up hadn't occurred. Not yet anyway.

"The eye of the storm," Marguerite muttered as she willed the elevator to miraculously ascend faster.

"What was that?" Malone asked, his voice strained.

Marguerite shrugged her wide shoulders. "Oh nothing. I was just thinking that we're not out of this yet."

"Well, you could make things go a little bit smoother you know."

Marguerite threw him a sickly sweet smile. "Oh but I just love these little confrontations, Malone. When this is all over I think that I'm going to enlist Lord Roxton to spar with me on a regular basis."

Malone shifted irritably in the narrow space. "I would hardly call a lucky punch a fight. But thank you for that by the way," the reporter continued sarcastically. "I'm sure I can look forward to a rematch in the future. Did you know Roxton boxed in school?"

"I guessed as much," Marguerite answered, testing the stiff, bruised muscles in her face.

Malone turned, as well as he could in the small space, to look at Marguerite. "Wait a minute. Did Roxton hit _you_ before I got there?"

Marguerite didn't grace him with a reply but the slightly discoloured area forming around her left eye was answer enough. Torn between vengeful amusement and self-pity for his bruised face, Malone returned his eyes to his petite boots. "Well, I'm sure you deserved it."

Marguerite's head snapped up. "Excuse me!"

However, at that moment the elevator ground to a jerky halt, and Marguerite took the opportunity to push her way out into the tree house. Malone stepped out behind her and moved to send the elevator back down but Marguerite put a restraining hand on the lever, which a frustrated Malone noted he could not move.

"Look Malone," Marguerite started, "like it or not we are in this ridiculously impossible situation. So let's just fix the damn machine and cut our losses, hmmm?"

Malone met Marguerite's glare. "Fine by me."

Marguerite released her grip and the elevator began to slowly descend. Before the heiress could disappear farther into the tree house, Malone stopped her with his words.

"I'll make an excuse and try to fix the machine, but you have to talk to Veronica while I'm gone."

Marguerite cocked her head in impatience. "About what?"

"About us- I mean-" Malone stumbled, "just tell her there is nothing going on between me and you."

Marguerite smiled thinly. "Don't worry, Romeo. I think that's already pretty obvious."

"Well, at least apologize to her!"

Marguerite crossed her arms across her chest and prepared for another fight. "No. No way, Malone. You're just going to have to pitch your own woo."

"Like this!" Malone gestured wildly to his feminine body. Before Marguerite could respond, he continued, "Your big mouth, not to mention your itchy fists, got Veronica furious at me and if you want me to fix the machine it's going to have to get me out of this mess!"

"Oh? So you're really going to leave us like this if I don't make nice with Veronica?" Marguerite laughed dryly. "Really, Malone."

They stood staring at each other, neither willing to back down. The elevator, which had stopped squeaking during their exchange, had at some point began again. Challenger and Veronica were coming back up. Their time alone was running out fast, and Marguerite decided to play her trump card.

"It's obvious that we're not going to agree on this. If you're not going to fix the machine then I guess we'll just have to tell the others the truth and have Challenger repair it."

Malone's gaze never wavered. "Sure. If you think that's best."

The elevator and its occupants were dangerously close now. Marguerite could already hear voices getting disturbingly more distinct. The two competitors stared at each other for another moment. _Damn him!_ Marguerite mentally cursed.

"Fine!" she relented, her eyes narrow. "I'll make up with your little girlfriend."

Malone ignored Marguerite's barb and smiled triumphantly.

"Enjoy it well you can, Malone. This isn't just the first time you've won an argument with me but also the very last."

Shaking his head, Malone went into the small kitchen and started pouring himself a stiff drink. Marguerite watched him silently for half a second and then sidled over to him. She said, "While I'm taking care of your Veronica problems, there are some _favours_ I owe Roxton…"

Before Malone's black look could translate into words, the infamous elevator finally reached the top and Veronica and Challenger disembarked. Marguerite winked at the reporter and then dramatically increased the distance between them before Veronica had a chance to notice their proximity.

"I'm going to my room," Veronica loudly stated to no one in particular, but the meaning was clear: _Leave me alone_.

Challenger frowned to himself and then headed in the direction of his lab, equipment teetering in his arms. Malone rushed over to the burdened scientist and tried to help steady him.

"Challenger, let me help you with that before you fall and break something."

"Well thank you Marguerite," Challenger returned with a pleased grin but he almost dropped his fragile load in shock at the offer. "But you needn't trouble yourself, my dear."

"No trouble," Malone assured him. He took an armful of instruments and pushed Challenger towards the lab. Behind the pleasantly surprised scientist's back, Malone raised his sculpted eyebrows at Marguerite and gestured in the direction of Veronica's bedroom. Marguerite acknowledged the less than subtle push with a roll of her eyes but she reluctantly headed in that direction.

---

Veronica gently ran her fingers over the small wooden box, her fingertips tracing the delicate grooves. All the anger that she had felt had drained from her and left wistfulness in its stead. Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Veronica opened the lid and briefly examined the contents. She knew them all off by heart, the mementos from her brief life, but today she felt that she needed reassurance. Her eyes rested on a small pocket journal she had filled up when she was a child. Slowly, she picked it up and placed it in her lap. The book automatically opened to reveal a flower pressed carefully between the pages. The flower Malone had given her before they had had that swim in the pond. And Malone had said…

"Veronica?"

Startled, Veronica slapped the notebook closed and looked up to see Malone hovering in the doorway. She quickly diverted her eyes from his and let her deep frown reply for her.

"Can I come in?" he asked. Instead of shyly waiting for an answer in the usual Malone manner, he was already to the bed before Veronica could sternly retort.

"I'm a little busy right now, Ned," Veronica said, clutching the notebook possessively and trying to turn herself away from him.

"This won't take long," Malone inserted briskly and he sat stiffly on the edge of the bed. "I just wanted to-" Malone's cool composition faltered and his face creased slightly as if he were in pain, "-apologize," he managed. "I haven't been myself lately but you shouldn't have to worry about that anymore."

Veronica raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And that's supposed to make everything all right?" Her eyebrow lowered in confusion, as Malone's expression actually seemed to imply that he had hoped it would.

"Veronica, I just want you to know that there is nothing going on between Marguerite and I." Was it her upset imagination or was Malone suppressing a smirk?

Veronica was unconvinced. "That's not really any of my business."

Malone slumped with annoyance but then he turned toward Veronica and gave her the most charming smile she had ever seen him use. With just the slightest hint of hesitation, the reporter placed his large hand over her smaller one. "Believe me, she's way out of my league," he said, but he quickly corrected. "What I mean is that I have no interest in Marguerite. _None whatsoever_."

Veronica regarded him warily but she didn't withdraw her hand. Oddly enough, she had had a remarkably similar conversation with Marguerite just that morning at the pond.

Malone waited but when the jungle girl didn't say anything he asked, "So…are we good?"

Veronica sighed. "Ned, I really want everything to be alright between us. I just don't understand what's going on with you. Why in the world did you hit Roxton?"

Malone shifted in frustration. "Am I the only one who thinks he deserved it?" He gestured sullenly at his swelling eye. "He hit me first you know."

Veronica's face suddenly softened as she noticed Malone's injury for the first time. She reached up to touch the discoloured area, and she smiled in sympathy as he winced. "What did you do?"

"I stood up for my self," Malone grumbled.

Veronica made to stand up. "I'll get some ice."

Malone stopped her. "No, it can wait. I'm working on a more important injury right now."

Veronica lowered her eyes to try to hide her embarrassed smile, but Malone put a finger under her chin and pulled her gaze to his own. _He looks like Roxton_. The thought jumped unbidden to Veronica's mind and she realized that the reporter did seem to be imitating the hunter's mannerisms. Veronica had seen Malone's present intense look used by Roxton on Marguerite lots of times and it looked sort of out of place on Malone's boyish features.

"Can we start again?" Malone asked, his voice low.

Veronica nodded slowly. "Yeah."

The reporter smiled and then faltered slightly. A hint of awkwardness appeared as if he had just painted himself into a corner and now wasn't really sure of what to do. To save face, he smiled crookedly at Veronica and leaned forward stiffly. Veronica closed her eyes, but instead of the soft kiss she expected, Malone gave her a short, formal peck on the forehead. As the journalist pulled back and stood up, Veronica's eyes popped open in surprise and she suddenly caught something out of place in Malone's eyes. There was a flicker in those blue orbs that she recognized but nevertheless didn't belong.

Malone gave Veronica one last smile as he left the room but it wasn't Malone's smile. Something was very wrong.

---

_Women._ Marguerite exhaled with relief as she left Veronica's room. _Am I that difficult?_ Marguerite realized that the younger woman had expected a romantic kiss to confirm the make-up but there were some places that the heiress was not quite willing to go yet. At least Veronica was no longer angry, and Malone would have to admit that she had done a pretty good job. Marguerite had had to rely on some of the tricks Roxton used on her but it had seemed to go well enough.

As Marguerite entered the common room, Malone appeared from the direction of Challenger's lab.

"Well?" he asked.

Marguerite smiled sweetly at him. "Was there ever any doubt?" When Malone frowned doubtfully, Marguerite's smile twisted into annoyance. "Everything's fine. I sweet-talked your little girlfriend into a sugar coma. All right?"

"Good," Malone said warily. "I guess I'll go down and get to work on the machine."

Marguerite nodded. "Why don't you go do that."

After Malone had disappeared down the elevator, Marguerite slumped into a chair. Now what? A wicked smile crept onto her face as the answer came quickly enough. _I really should catch up with the work in MY journals_, she mused.

A good twenty minutes later, Marguerite was deeply involved in correcting some of Malone's more blaring mistakes with a thick red pencil when Challenger passed by her table. Startled, she glanced up in time to see him flip the switch to bring up the elevator. Thinking of Malone working secretly away at the bottom, Marguerite jumped up and hurried over to the patiently waiting scientist.

"What are you doing?" she asked abruptly.

"I need some tools and I think Roxton may have left them near the electric fence when he was repairing it," Challenger answered.

Marguerite smiled nervously. "No need for you to go all the way down there." She tried to step in front of him. "I'll get them."

Challenger smiled back warily. "I wouldn't want to disturb you. You're obviously occupied with your journals."

"No trouble," Marguerite interjected quickly but Challenger refused to budge.

The elevator reached them and Challenger stepped in. "The exercise always does me good," he insisted.

Not knowing what else to do, Marguerite got in beside him. "Well then I suppose I'll join you."

_Maybe I can warn Malone before we get there_, she mused. There was absolutely no extra room in the small elevator as the bodies of two grown men took up most of the space and the uncomfortable silence filled in the rest.

---

Meanwhile, far below on the jungle floor, Malone was so busy getting frustrated and angry at Challenger's machine that he didn't hear someone quietly approaching behind him.

Despite how mechanically inclined Marguerite might think he was, the truth of the matter was that Edward Malone was no engineer. He couldn't even really be called a mechanic. He had been tinkering away at the confusing invention for nearly half an hour and he wasn't any closer to finding out what was wrong with it than when he had started. And if he didn't know how it was supposed to work in the first place, how could he possibly fix it?

Malone pushed angrily away from the worktable and stared up at the darkening canopy in defeat. The stars interwove themselves in the inky leaves as the cool, night breeze fluttered amongst the treetops. Malone felt some of the night's calm flowing over his own jarred nerves and he slowly relaxed.

"Beautiful night," Lord John Roxton's deep voice broke the peaceful stillness. Malone ground his teeth. _Perfect_. Roxton eased up beside him and followed Malone's gaze up to the canopy.

Not wanting to start a dangerous confrontation like the violent one that had occurred only that afternoon, Malone quickly excused himself. "I was just going back up." Malone started to hurry away but Roxton stepped in front of him and grabbed his arm.

"Marguerite," he started carefully. They stood there for a moment, Malone refusing to meet Roxton's piercing gaze. "How's your ankle?"

Malone's feminine brow furrowed, and before he could protest, Roxton was already crouched down and feeling his ankle.

"Oh, my ankle," Malone mildly remembered the twisted ankle Marguerite had claimed in order to stay at the tree house and look for the Lanadu's jewels but, not surprisingly, he didn't feel any pain.

Frustration at the whole unending situation and anger at Marguerite's earlier behaviour towards Veronica had taken its toll on the tired journalist. Giving in to a vindictive tendency he said, "Yeah, I made that up so I could stay at the tree house."

Roxton's head snapped up to look at Malone, but he didn't let go of Malone's ankle. "What?"

Only wanting Roxton to release him so he could escape, Malone continued, "Yep, I wanted to look for those gems you and the others hid. You know, the ones I stole from the Lanadu."

"Uh, huh." Roxton released Malone's ankle and stood up slowly. He slid smoothly and very closely past Malone until he towered above him. Obviously thrown off-guard by these sudden confessions, Roxton quizzically probed Malone's face.

Feeling very uncomfortable, Malone thought quickly for a way to end the conversation. He decided to take a lesson from Marguerite's book. After all, when in Rome-. He looked up openly into Roxton's face and asked, "How's your eye?"

Roxton's hand reached reflexively for his swelling eye and his face darkened.

Seeing the opening he was seeking, he decided to insert the wedge deeper. Malone continued proudly, "Malone gave you quite a shiner."

Roxton's eyebrows raised, which caused him to wince slightly in pain and Malone to smile in satisfaction. "Sometimes a lucky shot hits its mark," Roxton replied smoothly.

Roxton had backed off somewhat and Malone saw his opening to escape so he continued to push. "Lucky? It was pretty effective for just a lucky shot."

Roxton adjusted the rifle strap on his shoulder and carefully considered his words. "I suppose it's pretty fortunate for Malone that you've entered his cheering section, Marguerite. Considering how effectively you've succeeded in alienating him from Veronica."

Malone was almost home free. A few more steps and he'd have a clear path to the elevator. "What can I say? I've always had a thing for blondes."

Roxton's face remained impassive but his eyes betrayed how deeply Malone's flippant attitude was stabbing him. Malone hesitated, guilt over hurting his friend ruining his plan. "Roxton, I didn't…"

Immediately, Malone realized his mistake. The reporter had been almost past Roxton, who stood between him and the tree house, when he had stopped. Now Malone was standing in between Challenger's worktable and the hunter, who quickly closed the gap.

"I'll give you one chance to explain to me what you're up to, Marguerite," Roxton offered, his voice unsteady.

Malone's skin crawled at this sudden proximity to his friend, but Roxton had pinned him against the table.

Roxton must have seen Malone's helpless expression because his eyes softened and he was unable to suppress a quick half-grin. "Wait," he said softly, "maybe I don't want to know."

Not liking this new attitude anymore than the last one, Malone played his last card. "Don't you ever give it a rest?"

Roxton cocked his head as if thinking for a second. "Must be the full moon," he murmured. Before Malone knew what was happening Roxton had leaned down and kissed him. Malone's eyes popped open and he pushed with all of Marguerite's strength. Roxton let go of him and Malone stumbled away, his face contorted in disbelief and disgust. "Ahhh!" he spit out.

His cry was interrupted by a loud throat clearing. Malone and Roxton both looked up to see Challenger and Marguerite standing near the elevator's base. One of them looked extremely uncomfortable and the other was fighting hard to suppress a smile.

"I'm sorry," Marguerite started, "are we interrupting something?"

"No!" Malone quickly insisted.

Roxton's eyes hardened and he gave Malone an icy smile. "Apparently not. Well, if you'll excuse me." The lord headed for the elevator and brushed past the spectators. He stiffened slightly as he passed Marguerite, their afternoon encounter apparently not quite forgotten, but he didn't stop until he had got into the elevator. Marguerite exhaled slowly as the miffed hunter disappeared from view.

Challenger's face was tinged a light red, and it was hard to hear his mumbling over the rumble of the ascending elevator. "I forgot some of my tools," he offered, looking at no one in particular.

As Challenger busied himself with finding his instruments, Marguerite strolled smugly over to Malone, who was absently rubbing his arm across his mouth. "You're right I think we should tell them."

Malone glared at Marguerite but his heated reply was lost in Challenger's sudden cry of anguish. The two explorers whirled around to see the visionary crouched on the ground, his one arm cradling the other, which had an arrow protruding from it.

Malone's stomach fell as he reached for Marguerite's holster at his waist and realized that he was unarmed. A quick glance at Marguerite confirmed that she was no better prepared.

That was when the warriors attacked.

Two natives, their eyes prominently streaked with black paint, rushed Marguerite and she cried out as she tried to back away from them. Malone lunged at one of them and punched him hard in the stomach. The man slumped to the ground but one of his fellows quickly took his place and shoved Malone roughly away. He banged painfully into the worktable but the warrior was already ignoring him. Instead, the attackers were focused on subduing the injured Challenger and a violently struggling Marguerite. They didn't seem to consider an unarmed woman much of a threat.

_We'll just see about that_, Malone thought. He grabbed a rock, which someone had been using as a paperweight, off the table and lunged at the nearest attacker. With a sharp crack, the heavy stone snapped the warrior's head sideways and sent him crashing to the ground. Malone was already swinging back to assault the next target, when his arms were suddenly immobilized. A large warrior had grabbed Malone's swinging appendages in an iron grip and then pinned them behind the reporter's back. Malone struggled violently but he soon realized that the strength of Marguerite's body was not enough to pull free.

The other explorers fared little better. With his arm useless, Challenger was only able to put up a half-hearted resistance. His good arm was now twisted painfully behind him by one of the natives who was keeping the scientist in check. Two others were using large knives to supervise the exhausted Marguerite. The heiress had ceased to struggle under the repeated blows that the warriors had apparently felt a young, male enemy required.

One of the warriors strode confidently amongst the subdued prisoners, his expression dripping with satisfaction. The deference afforded to him by the other natives established him as the leader, and he quickly took control. Approaching Malone, he waved the inferior away and restrained the reporter himself. He held Malone in a chokehold and used his knife to threateningly caress Malone's neck.

"Seela tu kay je?" the leader spoke with menacing calm. Malone's face remained angry but uncomprehending.

When Malone didn't attempt a reply, the leader shook him and furiously repeated his demand.

"I don't know what you're saying!" Malone insisted after the warrior's third aggravated attempt.

Enraged at Malone's refusal to cooperate, the leader gestured to the man covering Challenger and said, "Caro koota pyong. Aliy tee saw!"

At Malone's continued silence, Challenger's captive began to tug on the arrow protruding from the scientist's arm. Challenger cried out in pain, causing Malone to renew his struggle in the chief's grasp.

Suddenly, a loud shot rang out and the man hurting Challenger screamed in anguish and collapsed on the ground. Another round followed, exploding a nearby tree branch. Talking rapidly to each other, one of the natives slammed Marguerite across the back of her head with the butt of his knife and she fell unconscious to the ground.

"Marguerite!" Malone shouted but the chief and one of his companions were already dragging him away.

Two warriors started pushing Challenger into the jungle and the others fired arrows up towards the tree house, where bullets continued to rain down with deadly accuracy. Malone tried to drag his heels but he found his lighter weight had insufficient force to really slow his kidnappers. Challenger too was putting up a fight, but in his weakened state, it did little good.

In seconds, the small party had left the tree house behind. The sound of the rifle shots were already losing their sharp edge as the warriors hastily put distance between their prisoners and possible rescue.

As soon as Malone's overloaded brain had fully grasped the situation, he started doing whatever he could to mark their trail. But he soon realized that shoe prints and broken branches would do little good. The chief sent one of the natives in a different direction, and Malone watched in exasperation as the man purposely left a wide trail in his wake while another fell back to try and erase that of the kidnappers.

_What do they want?_ Malone's mind screamed. At a signal from the leader, the warriors manhandling Malone stopped and Challenger's captors caught up with them. The poor scientist was having difficulty keeping up as he tried to staunch the blood oozing from his wound. Looking at Challenger with disgust, the leader made a violent slashing motion with his hand. Challenger's guards forced him to his knees and one of them raised his large knife. With dawning horror, Malone realized that he was seconds away from watching them slit his friend's throat.

To Be Continued….


	7. On The Trail

"I'm not waiting any longer! I'm going after them!"

"Alone! You'll get killed and that won't do either of them any good! We have to wait until we're sure Malone is alright enough to stay behind."

The fuzzy, surrounding voices slowly became clearer as Marguerite swam upwards toward consciousness. A deep, throbbing pain in the back of her skull screamed at her to let go back into oblivion but she fought against it. Her eyelids slowly fluttered open, and she saw a blurry Veronica leaning over her, naked concern on the blond woman's face. The dazed heiress automatically reached up to examine her fresh head wound, and she groaned with pain.

"Don't tell me Summerlee hit me with a skillet again," Marguerite cracked groggily, struggling to sit up. The pulsing pain reminding her of the time the Professor, under the influence of a mind-control drug, had sent her into painful unconsciousness.

Veronica threw Roxton a confused glance but decided to ignore the comment. She pushed firmly on Marguerite's chest, forcing her to lie down again.

"You need to stay lying down, Malone. You don't want to pass out again," Veronica advised.

Behind her, Roxton was pacing furiously his gun clenched in his hands and his hat on his head. "Alright, he's awake. I'm going," he said tensely.

"Would you give him a minute!" Veronica demanded. Her voice softened as she turned it on Marguerite. "Let me look at your head. You took quite a hit."

Veronica gently probed the wound, adjusting the bandage she had already applied.

Roxton stepped into the elevator and placed his hand on the lever. "I'm going after them Veronica, with or without you. Who knows what those savages are doing to Marguerite and Challenger while we waste time playing nursemaid!"

The attack! The violent events of only minutes before rushed back to Marguerite and she nearly jumped up with sudden urgency. However, her injury only allowed her to struggle weakly against Veronica's restraining hand.

"Marguerite!" Marguerite exclaimed, worry for her yet unclaimed body engulfing her. "We have to hurry before anything happens to her!"

Roxton stepped out of the waiting elevator and glared down at Marguerite. "Nothing would have happened to her if you had done anything to stop it!"

"Roxton!" Veronica protested.

"What was I supposed to do?" Marguerite demanded with as much heat as her dizzy condition could muster.

Roxton fell back into his angry pacing. "Oh I don't Malone, perhaps you could have suckered punched him while he was sitting down! It's worked well in the past!"

"This is no time for childish disagreements," Veronica stepped between Roxton and the sitting Marguerite. "All that matters now is helping Challenger and Marguerite!" She sat back down beside Malone and asked, "Ned, think: who attacked you?"

Marguerite's gaze turned inward and the scene replayed itself in her memory.

_Malone glared at Marguerite but his heated reply was lost in Challenger's sudden cry of anguish. The two explorers twirled around to see the visionary crouched on the ground, his one arm cradling the other, which had an arrow protruding from it._

_Marguerite glanced down at her empty hands in panic. She hadn't bothered to bring a gun with her. Malone looked over at her and she shrugged in helplessness as his gaze searched for a weapon._

_That was when the warriors attacked. _

_Two of the warriors rushed at her and Marguerite automatically retreated, a cry escaping her lips. Before they could reach her, Malone lunged at one of them and punched him hard in the stomach. _I hope he didn't break my hand_, Marguerite thought with detachment. The man slumped to the ground but one of his fellows quickly took his place and shoved Malone roughly away. _

_Instead of following the injured reporter, the attacker turned back to her, his menacing approach crowding her back into a tree. As the warrior swung his heavy fist toward her, Marguerite dodged away from him with all the grace of her former feminine self. His hand connected with the unyielding tree and he crumpled over his injured appendage. Smiling triumphantly, Marguerite hit him hard in the back with her elbow and sent him to the ground with his friend. Only his friend, who had been nursing his bruised stomach, was no longer lying there._

_Before Marguerite could turn around, she felt a stabbing pain in her lower back and she stumbled. The attacker turned her roughly around and punched her in the jaw. Marguerite's head snapped painfully back and she went limp in the man's arms. The native threw her to the ground in distaste, where his broken-handed friend, kicked her savagely in the side._

_Gasping with the pain, Marguerite struggled to her knees. The warriors did nothing to stop her but the knives that shone coldly in their hands kept her from moving any further. _

_The fight was over. She could see Challenger, in his injured state, had been easily subdued. His good arm was now twisted painfully behind him by one of the natives who was keeping the scientist in check. Malone was immobilized by a particularly large man who held the reporter's arms tightly behind him, despite Malone's struggles. _

_One of the warriors strode confidently amongst the subdued prisoners, his expression dripping with satisfaction. The deference afforded to him by the other natives established him as the leader, and he quickly took control. Approaching Malone, he waved the inferior away and restrained the reporter himself. He held Malone in a chokehold and used his knife to threateningly caress Malone's neck._

"_Seela tu kay je?" the leader spoke with menacing calm. _

Alright woman, where are our stones?_ Marguerite silently and automatically translated. Her eyes widened. _Oh no.

_When Malone didn't reply, the leader shook him and angrily repeated his demand._

"_I don't know what you're saying!" Malone insisted. Marguerite winced. The chief knew she could speak his language. The others did not know it but she had conversed with the leader a few times before and so logically he would expect Malone in her body to speak with him._

_Enraged at Malone's refusal to cooperate, the leader gestured to the man covering Challenger and said, "Caro koota pyong. Aliy tee saw!" _If you don't understand my words perhaps you will understand this.

_One of the warriors obediently began tugging on the arrow in Challenger's arm. At the scientist's cry of pain, Malone struggled in the chief's grasp and Marguerite's mind raced. What was she going to do? The chief would never believe that that was Malone in her body! _

_Suddenly, a loud shot rang out and the man hurting Challenger screamed in anguish and collapsed on the ground. Another round followed, exploding a nearby tree branch. The warrior's conversed quickly but Marguerite still realized what was going to happen just before the butt of the knife slammed across the back of her head. The pain immediately surrendered to darkness._

Marguerite's pulled herself out of her remembering and turned her attention back to her impatiently waiting friends.

"The Lanadu. They came for the stones that-" Marguerite paused and shifted her eyes away from Veronica's, "-the stones that Marguerite found."

Roxton wasted no time in making a beeline for Challenger's lab. Marguerite could hear him banging around trying to get to the bag of sand where the explorers had hidden the jewels from Marguerite's itchy fingers. The ones that she had secretly found.

Veronica's eyes narrowed. "I should have known this was Marguerite's doing! I should have taken those stolen jewels right back!"

Marguerite automatically defended herself. "Stolen! I found-"

Roxton returned empty handed and even angrier than he had left.

"They're gone!" the hunter exclaimed. Marguerite's face twitched but Roxton was too worked up to notice.

"What?" Veronica jumped up from the couch. "I thought you hid them!"

"Apparently not well enough," Roxton said, comprehension growing on his face. "Marguerite was telling the truth, she didn't sprain her ankle."

"What?" Veronica tried again.

"Marguerite was telling me the truth about lying."

Veronica did not look any less confused but Marguerite certainly had something to say about it. "When did Marguerite tell you that?" she demanded. Just what else had Malone been letting out of the bag?

Roxton shook his dark head. "It doesn't matter. Stones or no stones. I'm getting Marguerite and Challenger back if I have to shoot every last Lanadu to do it."

He strode quickly to the elevator, and Marguerite carefully rose to follow him.

"Oh, no," Veronica laid a restraining hand on Marguerite's arm, "You're in no condition for a march through the jungle."

Marguerite set her chiselled jaw determinedly and gently removed Veronica's hand. "I have to go, Veronica. You could say I have a very personal interest in this particular rescue operation's success."

Veronica's eyes grew distant. "Oh, I see."

Marguerite knew that she had just created yet another Malone-Veronica problem, but there was no time to repair feelings.

The three of them piled into the elevator and it jerked steadily towards the jungle floor. When they reached the bottom, they quickly made their way outside the electric fence. Even in the dark, Veronica and Roxton had no trouble picking up the rough trail that the fleeing attackers had left in their haste to escape. After only a few minutes, they stumbled upon an injured Lanadu lying in pain on the path. A bullet had pierced his thigh and his energy was bleeding quickly away into the dirt. When he saw them he tried to reach for his knife, but Roxton quickly relieved him of it and Veronica stilled him with her own handy blade.

"Where did they take our friends?" Roxton demanded. When the native only stared back at him with cold eyes, the hunter took out his pistol and pointed the muzzle at the warrior's temple. "Unless you fancy another bullet for your collection, I suggest you start talking. Now!"

"Ugunda kee ta!" The native replied fiercely, but his voice shook slightly.

Frustrated, Roxton cocked the revolver and pressed it into the native's temple. "Last chance," he whispered darkly.

Seeing that the lord was about to blow away their only link to Challenger and her body, Marguerite interjected. "He doesn't understand you! The Lanadu can't speech English!"

Roxton looked back at Marguerite. "Well then he's not much use to us."

"Roxton," Veronica warned quietly as she caught the same murderous look Marguerite saw in Roxton's eye. The hunter had been pushed a little too far today and now he thought Marguerite was being put through who know's what. Of all times, this was not the right time to test him.

As Roxton's finger tightened on his gun's trigger, Marguerite burst in with what she knew of the Lanadu language. "Ca tee loonta jaay?" _Where have your men gone?_

The warrior looked up at her in surprise but his expression didn't even come close to the shock on Roxton and Veronica's faces.

---

From his kneeling position, Challenger's eyes were wide in apprehension of the blow that was soon to come. The warrior stood above him his knife held high, prepared to carry out the ordered execution. Challenger, with his bleeding arm, couldn't keep up and now the natives were prepared to take care of him.

"No!" Malone cried but he knew his protests were useless. The leader was watching the struggling reporter with smug amusement but nothing else.

Challenger's guard swung his arm in a swift arc and ran the blade's sharp edge across the scientist's throat. Challenger's mouth opened in a silent gasp as the blood appeared in a thick red line. Malone watched in horror as Challenger fell face-forward in the dirt, his good arm reaching helplessly for his torn neck.

That was how it should have happened.

Malone sat on the cool ground, his head leaned tiredly back against the pole his hands were tightly lashed to. Weak morning light ran in jagged lines across his face, stealing in through the planks of the poorly constructed shed. Beside him, Challenger lay tied up on the ground, hovering in a shallow state of unconsciousness. The arrow had been removed from his arm and his shirt had staunched the flow of blood. His throat, however, was perfectly fine.

Malone just couldn't understand it. After the warrior's swift attack and equally capable kidnapping, he had expected only cruel efficiency from his captors. That's why the reporter was so sure that Challenger was as good as dead as soon as the chief gave the order. However, the deadly slash had never come. The leader had merely watched the protesting Malone, and the executioner had stood in still preparation. Finally, the leader grew frustrated once again and the warriors had dragged Challenger to his feet. The kidnappers and kidnapped had then continued into the jungle.

As the rising sun began to touch the night sky, they reached a small village that was apparently their destination. The buildings were well-made and aesthetically appealing in design but the hut that the captives were thrown into was much more shabbily put together. They were left alone but Malone could hear people moving around outside.

With nothing to do but ponder their situation, Malone finally decided that Challenger's near slaying was merely an empty threat. The native chief was waiting for one of his prisoners to give him something in return for Challenger's life, but Malone had no idea what that something was. He couldn't even ask them what they wanted! Where was Marguerite when you really needed her? She had the uncanny ability of being able to understand and speak any language she came up against but that didn't help them if she wasn't there.

The shoddy door swung open and a man walked in, his heavily outlined eyes regarded the prisoners with distrust. He was carrying a small tray piled with fruit and a bowl of water. At seeing the liquid, Malone swallowed as best he could with his parched throat. The leader followed behind the warrior, looked at Malone, and said, "Relu teego?"

Malone silently returned the chief's stare but was as unable to answer as before.

His smile thinning, the chief took the bowl of water from the other man and offered it to the restrained Malone. His voice was almost pleasant as he spoke.

Malone answered, "I suppose I'm a little thirsty."

The leader's face fell and his expression turned stony. In frustration, he emptied the bowl slowly onto the hut's dirt floor. "Doen walli se ti farla jay," he muttered darkly and dropped the empty bowl at the disappointed journalist's feet.

With a sharp command from the chief, two warriors, that Malone recognized from the night's conflict, entered and picked up Challenger. As they cut the bonds at his feet, the visionary came groggily to life. "What's going on?" he mumbled.

The third man untied Malone from the pole and the two captives were dragged out into the morning light. The explorers were taken through the small village, past a small number of watching warriors. The absence of women, children, or animals convinced Malone that the small settlement must be some sort of camp for hunting or ceremonies. Probably not a good sign.

His fears were confirmed as the natives came to a stop at the edge of a pit. Malone peered over the edge to see a sheer wall twice the height of a man with a ladder leaned against it. Challenger tore his eyes away from the uninviting hole and exchanged worried looks with Malone.

"What in heaven's name do they want, Marguerite?" Challenger asked.

Malone shrugged nervously. "I have no idea."

Challenger's brows knit together with confusion. "Why don't you ask them?" When Malone didn't reply, Challenger continued, "Can't you understand what they're saying?"

Malone swallowed. "Challenger, there's something I need to tell you."

Satisfied that the prisoners were as intimidated by the dark pit as they could be, Challenger's captures pushed him past Malone and started forcing him down the ladder. From where he remained at the top with the chief, Malone watched the men pour a dark liquid on the scientist and then around him before returning up the ladder without him.

The pit had only two visible exits. One was the ladder, which the warriors wasted no time in retrieving once they reached the top, and the other was a crude opening leading into a dark cave. This latter avenue of escape, however, was barred by a stick fence.

The chief made sure that Malone saw the container that the dark liquid had been poured from once his men returned. It didn't take long for him to realize that it was blood. Why had they covered Challenger with blood just to have him trapped in the relative safety of a pit? No predator could reach him there, and it did not look as if the tribe was getting ready to introduce one.

Challenger looked up from his prison and shouted, "Marguerite, if you have a chance for escape take it! Don't wait for me!"

Malone shook his head. "That's what I have to tell you I'm not-"

The raptors hit the crude barrier with such suddenness that even the warriors jumped in alarm. The ravenous creatures had come stealthily out of the cave's darkness and were now bashing themselves against the fence that separated them from a blood-covered Challenger. Challenger quickly backed up and tripped over a loose bone that looked disturbingly human even from Malone's high vantage point.

Even with the new vicious arrivals, Malone could not grasp the reasoning behind his kidnappers' plan. The prehistoric man-eaters couldn't touch Challenger with that wooden barrier in the- A loud crack accompanied the raptors' latest onslaught as the fence shuddered with the abuse. The warriors smiled at the noise. That was it. There was a protective fence but it wasn't meant to hold.

If Malone didn't develop Marguerite's way with language to match her body very soon, Challenger's earlier pardon would only become a delay in execution.

To Be Continued…


	8. The Truth

Roxton swept the ground lightly with his hand, moving the loose leaves and sticks. Once beyond this superficial layer, he peered closely at the hard packed dirt. There it was: the footprint that the hunter had been looking for. They were definitely on the right track but following this particular trail was very slow going. The attackers had hidden their path well and a less experienced tracker would have likely missed it. Truthfully, even Roxton, with years of safaris under his belt, would probably have overlooked it had the injured warrior not pointed them in the right direction.

Any grim satisfaction that the young lord might have felt from pursuing his friends' capturers, collapsed under this fact. After Malone had started talking with the bleeding man in his native language, he had freely informed them of his fellows' direction and even their destination. Of course Roxton's cocked pistol had been one of the persuasive factors, but the explorers would never have gotten anything out of their enemy without Malone's sudden linguistic talents. The last few days had been notably odd but this was the icing on the cake.

Roxton straightened up and glanced over his shoulder at Malone and Veronica. The latter was adjusting the battered Malone's head bandage, but the hunter could see that she was still fully alert for danger.

"They went West from here," Roxton said, nodding in the direction. "From what that warrior said we must be getting close." Or at least he hoped they were close. Dawn had come and gone, and while the morning light made traveling much easier, the passing time meant that their friends' odds grew worse.

Veronica nodded and started pushing through the thick jungle. Malone started to follow her and Roxton matched pace beside him.

"You still haven't told us how you could talk to that Lanadu," Roxton started, his tone more distrustful than curious.

Malone kept his eyes on the ground as he walked, but Roxton could tell that his thoughts were racing. "I guess I must have got hit on the head harder than I thought." Malone smiled at his own joke, trying to brush off Roxton's question.

Roxton smiled back and actually let out a slight chuckle. This encouraged Malone to smile more enthusiastically and Veronica, from her place in the lead, to cock her head suspiciously. With jolting abruptness, Roxton's amused grin transformed instantly into a suspicious scowl and he grabbed Malone's arm. The two combatants jerked to a stop.

The hunter was all business as he stared into Malone's eyes and slowly demanded, "Answer the question."

Veronica abandoned her place in the lead and came back to confront the two men. "Let's not start this again," she insisted tiredly, her gaze pivoting between Malone and Roxton.

Malone shook off Roxton's arm, but not with the same anger as the earlier confrontations. "Veronica's right," Malone said evenly. "Marguerite and Challenger's lives are on the line. We can't afford to waste time."

"Don't you think I know that?" Roxton demanded, now addressing both Malone and Veronica. "Saving them is the only thing I care about right now, and I'm going to do everything possible to make sure that happens." His dark gaze refocused itself on the uncomfortable Malone. "Something is going on between the midnight visits, arguments, and general absurdity. I am not going into a life or death situation until I know the truth!"

---

One of the sticks near the top of the fence had cracked. The light, inner wood glowed like a gaping wound in the barrier. This new flaw would only make the fence weaker, and the raptors showed no sign of fatigue.

Challenger watched the weakening fence with intellectual interest. Such a clever form of torture. Instead of allowing the ravenous predators to immediately ravish their victim, the unfortunate soul had to wait for his inevitable fate. Challenger was presently safe within the steep-sided pit but he was forced to watch the raptors gnaw at the sticks with their flesh-tearing fangs and bash against them with their impressive strength. Even if the scientist was able to turn away, he could not escape the blood-chilling sounds of approaching death.

Challenger's back was pressed stiffly against the earthen walls, as far from the snarling raptors as possible. His fingers unconsciously pressed into the cool dirt. There was nothing he could do against the beasts when they eventually broke through. His soft human hands were as good as useless against such killing-machines. Even his intellect was wasted, as the only possible tool was the scant bones that littered the ground. No, the only thing that could change his fate was the group of eager warriors watching from above. Or Marguerite.

Challenger just couldn't understand Marguerite's inability to speak with their attackers. He had never seen her come up against a language she could not decipher. Could they have finally found the limit to her almost supernatural ability?

_Crack!_ The fence emitted yet another loud cry.

---

Marguerite squirmed uncomfortably under her friends' intense stares. When Roxton had finished his little 'I want the truth' tirade she had looked pleadingly over to Veronica for support but now the blonde looked just as fiercely interested in some information.

This was ridiculous. Marguerite wasn't quite sure why she had concealed this from the others in the first place. Sometimes smoothing things over and keeping everything to yourself just becomes automatic. After that, things had gotten so…tense that telling the truth became very awkward. But now Challenger and Malone were in serious danger and Marguerite was tired of fighting. Besides, the last thing she needed was to have something happen to her body.

Taking a deep breath, Marguerite squared her wide, masculine shoulders, which she was actually getting quite used to, and met Roxton and Veronica's eyes.

"Alright," she said, "I'm going to tell you the truth. Something happened to Marguerite and me while you were all gone." Marguerite paused and winced slightly. "But it might be a bit hard to believe."

Veronica touched her arm encouragingly. "Malone, I might question Marguerite's version but I know that you wouldn't lie to me."

Marguerite blinked, ignoring the slight. "Yeah, about that…"

---

Malone looked calmly and evenly at his companions and said, "I _am_ Marguerite."

Veronica's eyes shifted to Roxton, who blinked.

Veronica started to say something but then faltered. She put her hands on her hips. Roxton shifted his weight from one foot to another.

Finally, Veronica broke the silence. "Excuse me?"

Roxton adjusted his rifle strap and shook his head. "We don't have time for joking around, Malone."

Malone smiled grimly. "I wish I was joking, Lord Roxton, but it's true. I'm not Malone. I'm Marguerite."

Veronica felt her stomach drop into her feet, and she had this sickening feeling that Malone was suddenly going to start laughing. "How…" she tried.

Malone took a deep breath. "We're not sure exactly how it happened. Malone and I were in the lab and he knocked over one of Challenger's inventions-"

"The one you were asking about at breakfast?" Veronica interrupted.

Malone nodded. "There was this bright light shinning in my chest and then I blacked out. When I woke up I-" he faltered and examined his audience's disbelieving expressions before continuing, "-well, I was in Malone's body."

Veronica and Roxton took turns staring at Malone and then at each other but they didn't say anything.

Malone shifted impatiently, his expression tired. "Why would I make this up?" he demanded in frustration.

When he still didn't receive a reaction, Malone rolled his eyes towards the jungle canopy. "Would it help if I said something that proved I was Marguerite?"

"Ok…" Veronica said slowly.

"Fine," Malone paused for a second thoughtfully and then he turned to Veronica. "This was some time ago now, but you must remember when we fell down a well running from dinosaurs. It was just the two of us."

Veronica nodded slowly. Yes, the men had been away and she had been fighting with Marguerite over her father's smoking jacket. Marguerite had surprised her while she was working in the garden and then a hungry pack of predators had gotten the jump on both of them. Unable to get to the electric fence, the women had fallen right into an abandoned well with no obvious way out.

Roxton interrupted Veronica's reminiscing by saying, "Yes, I _also_ remember that. I may not have been there but I heard the whole story when I got back to the tree house. So did Summerlee, Challenger, and-" he paused, looking Malone up and down suspiciously before finishing unsteadily, "-and you."

Malone nodded briskly. "Yes, yes. But we didn't tell you men everything." He looked back at Veronica. "You said that the reason I put on your father's clothes was because I was jealous. You knew your parents and I didn't." Malone crossed his arms defensively over his chest. "Which is of course ridiculous."

Veronica's eyes widened. She had never mentioned that particular conversation to anyone, and Marguerite certainly wouldn't have spoken about such a sensitive subject, especially not to Malone of all people.

"Is this true?" Roxton asked.

Veronica nodded, her eyes never leaving Malone. Could Marguerite and Malone really have switched bodies? Stranger things had happened on the Plateau. And she had noticed something odd in Malone's eyes….

Roxton, however, was not so easily convinced. "You could have found that out," he argued, his voice slow with uncertainty.

Malone sighed and turned to the hunter. "Two weeks ago I, _Marguerite_, went to the inland sea with you. Remember? We found that little beach and we-" He stopped and glanced self-consciously at the listening Veronica. Then he leaned towards Roxton and whispered quickly in the hunter's ear. Roxton's eyes widened and he pulled away from Malone in shock, his face tinged a light pink.

"Marguerite!" Roxton asked incredulously, his dark eyes sizing the other man up.

Suddenly, everything made sense for Veronica. The awkwardness when she and the others had first returned to the tree house, Marguerite's uncharacteristic dishevelled appearance at breakfast, and Malone's odd confrontational behaviour at the windmill actually seemed normal in light of this new information. Not to mention how Marguerite and Malone had been answering questions not directed at them and how Malone had been standing up for Marguerite's character and had sudden linguistic skills. Past conversations sliced through Veronica's thoughts. Her saying to Challenger: "Maybe, but Marguerite and Malone are still acting like totally different people." And a freshly conscious Malone of only hours before: "Don't tell me Summerlee hit me with a skillet again."

In her mind's eye, Veronica went back to the conversation she had had with Marguerite at the bathing lake as the heiress made a plea for Malone's good intentions, which had seemed so out of character for the selfish brunette. Then Veronica put Malone in Marguerite's place. _Oh my god._

Apparently, the same sort of revelations had been going through Roxton's mind because his face gradually changed from disbelief to shock.

"You mean ever since we came back to the tree house you and Marguerite-" Roxton corrected himself, "-you and Malone have been…in each other's bodies?"

Malone-no Marguerite- smiled with a false cheerfulness that Veronica realized really did belong to the heiress even though she was using the reporter's features. "That's right. It's not really all that hard to understand once you get the initial disbelief out of the way."

Veronica found herself smiling widely. Not at the situation, which was of course a disaster, but at the knowledge that it was really Marguerite standing in front of her. It hadn't been Malone picking fights and ignoring her, it had just been Marguerite up to her usual tricks! Malone really felt- _Malone_! While they were standing there talking, Malone and Challenger were being held captive!

"We can sort out all the details later," Veronica told the other two briskly. "We have to go find Challenger and-" she smiled again, "-Malone."

The blonde set out back down the trail, a new bounce in her step and already back in tracking mode. Marguerite quickly followed her. Roxton walked a bit slower. The shock he had been experiencing had changed to uncomfortable realization. Veronica didn't know what he was thinking about but he suddenly looked extremely embarrassed.

Roxton swallowed and then called half-heartedly to the quickly marching figures ahead of him. "So it was definitely the _entire_ time?"


	9. The Rescue

The first raptor's head was through the fence. Below him, Malone saw Challenger tense. The creature's teeth glinted viciously in the morning light and Malone imagined that the beast was smiling smugly at his defenseless prey. It was only a matter of seconds now.

The frustration was terrible. Malone searched his mind frantically for a plan but nothing presented itself. The men outnumbered the journalist five to one and their spears were already poking threateningly into his back. Malone had not a single weapon to attack with, he couldn't even throw Challenger a mode of defense. Either Malone was going to watch while his friend was ripped to pieces or he could jump into the pit and give the raptors something else to chew on first. Time to make a decision.

"Hi."

Malone spun around, startled by this new, but familiar voice. It was his own.

"Marguerite!" Malone blurted out, not bothering with their new identities. "Wha-"

The Lanadu quickly surrounded Marguerite, their knives at the ready. The chief yelled something angrily at Malone, gesturing sharply at Marguerite. He couldn't understand it, but he didn't need to because Marguerite answered for him.

The leader regarded Marguerite and her mastery of his language with confusion. Once he reestablished his bearings, however, he smiled darkly and barked an order to the warriors. They grabbed Marguerite's arms and started shoving her towards the pit.

"What did you say to him!" Malone cried, as he watched his body about to be thrown in with Challenger and the raptors.

"That I'm here to exchange myself for you," Marguerite called over her shoulder.

"Well, it's not working!" Malone looked desperately around him, expecting to see Veronica and Roxton emerging from the jungle, guns drawn, but they were alone.

The warriors threw Marguerite forward, and she teetered on the pit's edge for a moment, before steadying herself. One of the men wound up for a final push when she yelled, "Tonta!"

Malone decided it had to be the equivalent for 'wait' because the natives froze long enough for Marguerite to address the chief again. He seemed unimpressed with Marguerite's new appeal, but then she reached inside her shirt and brought out a pouch that had been concealed under her arm. The leader immediately straightened up and some of his disdain was replaced with cautious interest.

Encouraged, Marguerite loosened the mouth of the bag and slowly took out a sparkling gemstone. One of the natives took a step towards it but Marguerite quickly held the still bulging bag over the pit. The man quickly stepped back.

"Marguerite!" Malone urged through clenched teeth, finally grasping what the attackers were looking for. "Just give them their jewels and let's get out of here!"

Marguerite shook her head, the bag still suspended threateningly over the hole and the sound of the snarling raptors. "If I do that then we both go into the pit."

"Great, then I sure hope there's more to your plan than this!"

"When I say 'now', we jump in the pit."

"What!" Malone cried in disbelief.

The leader was getting inpatient with the conversation between his captives. He said something in a sharp tone to Marguerite and held his hand out insistently for the bag. Marguerite smiled at him and then flung the pouch and the jewel in her hand as far away from them as she could manage.

All of the natives' heads turned automatically to follow the valuable bag's trajectory, and Marguerite yelled, "Now!"

Not knowing why he was doing it, Malone ran to edge of the pit and flung himself over. He tried to keep his body limp as the ground rushed up to meet him, but he still hit hard. He rolled over a few times before stopping on his back, his entire left side screaming in pain.

Challenger's worried face appeared, looking down on him. "Marguerite! Are you alright!"

"I thought so," Malone groaned as he sat up, "but since I just jumped into a raptor pit, I'm going to have to say no." He pushed dark, curly hair out of his face and then took Challenger's extended hand.

As Challenger was helping Malone up he called over him, "Malone? What about you?"

Marguerite was sitting up, leaning against the dirt wall and biting her lip in pain. "My ankle. I think I might have broken it."

"What!" Malone, ignoring his own discomfort, rushed over to her. He touched her ankle experimentally, and she cried out. "Great idea, Marguerite! Jump into the pit!" Malone stormed at her. "Now you've broken my ankle!"

Challenger was staring at them oddly. "_Your_ ankle?" he asked.

Suddenly, one of the raptors let out a bloodcurdling cry. It had finally managed to make a hole in the fence but it had gotten stuck halfway through. Above him, Malone heard cheering from the bloodthirsty warriors. The fence was about to give.

The four Lanadu warriors were all standing at the edge of the pit, waiting impatiently for the vengeful carnage to begin. The leader was standing off to the side smugly examining the retrieved jewel, the bag tucked carefully in his belt. He didn't know anything was wrong until he heard the guns cock.

"Hello boys." Roxton stood only a few feet away, his two pistols aimed at the warriors. The natives were more than familiar with guns by this point, and they obligingly dropped their own weapons onto the ground. Roxton smiled and nodded at Veronica. "Shall we lower the ladder?" he asked her, and she headed towards it.

Before Veronica reached it, however, she froze.

"Veronica?" Roxton asked curiously, his eyes never leaving the Lanadus.

Veronica swallowed and slowly reached for her knives. "I think the sound of the raptors drew some unwanted attention." Her eyes flicked from Roxton to the jungle behind him.

Before Roxton could question her further, an ear-splitting roar echoed through the clearing and Roxton's face fell.

Malone, Marguerite, and Challenger all snapped their heads up at the same time, trying to see out of the pit.

"I'm sure that t-rex is miles away," Marguerite started.

A second later, Roxton and Veronica came tumbling into the pit.

"Well, I'm sure he can't reach us in here," Marguerite quickly restated.

Up above, screams ripped the air as the Lanadu scattered. The t-rex stampeded into the clearing and started snapping at the small warriors. Using the courage that had gained him his respected position, the chief grabbed a spear from the ground and brandished it in front of him. As the gigantic dinosaur's head passed low over the ground, the leader threw the sharp weapon into the creature's eye. It let out a terrible cry of pain and then fixed its good eye on its attacker. His resolve stretched to the limit, the leader screamed and tried to run but the t-rex's fangs caught him, and it swung him into the air. Tipping back its head, the t-rex swallowed the chief whole, silencing him.

Its appetite piqued, the t-rex turned to the other fleeing natives. Desperately, one of them flung himself into the pit and landed with a sickening thud near the explorers. The man cried out as he clutched his side where something appeared to have broken.

"If you two are down here, who is going to lower the ladder!" Marguerite snapped, looking up at Veronica and Roxton.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack as the last of the fence gave way. The raptors leaped, unhindered, out onto the floor of the pit.

Roxton reached for his pistols but came to the sickening realization that they must have flown from his hands when he had fallen into the hole. He saw one of them glinting several yards away and dove for it. He landed hard on his shoulder, the gun just out of reach.

Veronica grabbed for her two hunting knives from her belt and flung them at the approaching raptors. One of the creatures fell into the dirt with a screech of pain but the other two continued to advance. The warrior, still laying in pain on his back, was the closest to the fence, and a raptor fell on him hungrily. He screamed in horror as the razor-sharp teeth dug into him.

The last predator turned on the explorers. Cocking its head at its prey, it quickly picked out a wounded victim. The raptor charged Marguerite, and she screamed. Just before it reached her, the raptor mirrored her scream and fell to the ground. Behind it, Roxton still lay on his side, his pistol smoking.

Roxton pulled himself, painfully to his feet and hurried over to the others, who were now looking warily at the last raptor. The creature was still enjoying its current meal of Lanadu warrior but they had no desire to tempt him with seconds.

Roxton crouched down beside Marguerite and quickly surveyed her injured appendage. "Normally I'd be more than happy to carry you," Roxton said to her dryly, "but considering the circumstances, you're going to have to try and walk."

Marguerite groaned as she swung her arm around Roxton's shoulders, and he started to lift Malone's bulk.

"We don't have a ladder but we can make it out the fence," Roxton advised the others.

"Wouldn't it be easier to just shoot it!" Malone exclaimed, gesturing frantically at the feasting raptor.

The others looked at Roxton expectantly. He took his pistol out of its holster and pointed it at the sky before squeezing the trigger. The gun made a hollow clicking sound. He was out of bullets.

"Let me help you," Challenger offered as he supported Marguerite on the other side.

The others sprang into action, and they hurried towards the broken fence. As the others squeezed into the narrow cave, past the splintered fence, Malone looked back at Roxton's second gun. It was still lying where it had fallen when the hunter tumbled into the pit. It was only a few feet from the raptor, who was quickly finishing his raw meat. Maybe if he went fast enough…

"Forget it, Malone!" Roxton warned as he helped Marguerite through the fence.

"I think I can make it-" Malone twisted back around toward their escape route, the danger of the carnivore momentarily forgotten. "You told them!" he asked Marguerite. _But we couldn't tell them when I wanted to_, he thought in exasperation. "And they believed you?"

The explorers were forced to walk through the tunnel single file as they wondered just how the large raptors had possibly squeezed through in the first place. To make matters worse, the floor was littered with the occasional human bone or puddle of unidentified liquid. That and there was an angry raptor somewhere behind them.

Challenger, from his place near the front, was trying to pick his way over the uneven ground while looking behind him at Malone and Marguerite. "Told them what? What is going on!" When no one answered, he bristled, "Well?"

It was Roxton who relented. "Marguerite and Malone have switched bodies."

Challenger blinked as he absorbed this but his confusion soon turned into a deep frown. "If you're not going to tell me-"

"Uh, I think we need to go faster," Malone interrupted from the rear of the procession. He could hear a scratching noise coming from somewhere behind him, and he had a sickening feeling that it was claws on the tunnel floor. "Right now!"

"I see light!" Veronica called back from the lead.

Encouraged by the thought of escape and prodded on by a panicked Malone behind them, the explorers hurried out into the jungle. Right into a group of apemen.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Marguerite cried.

The apemen were just as stunned as the explorers to see a group of humans suddenly stumble out into their path, but they quickly recovered. The beast that was closest to them let out a yell and charged at Malone. The journalist dodged out of the way, and the apeman flew past him into the mouth of the cave. And into the mouth of a still hungry raptor.

The other apemen started to shriek as they saw their comrade being taken down by the ferocious predator. They charged the raptor, their crude weapons above their heads.

The explorers watched the chaos in front of them for a moment with open mouths.

"We should get out of here," Veronica suggested, pulling on Challenger's arm.

"Right," the scientist answered, still mesmerized by this odd turn of events.

Veronica, Challenger, Malone, Marguerite, and Roxton eased cautiously backwards into the jungle and disappeared.


	10. Back At The Tree House

The tree house was quiet. Too quiet. The explorers were spread out around the common room in uncomfortable silence, trying not to meet the eyes of anyone else.

Everyone, that is, except Challenger, who could be located by the occasional bang from the lower level. The visionary was in his workshop tinkering away at his machine trying to make it reverse whatever it had done to Malone and Marguerite.

"Your welcome," Marguerite said suddenly, breaking the tense quiet. She, still in Malone's body, was lounging on the wooden couch with her injured ankle stretched out in front of her. The others just turned and stared at her.

"What?" Malone asked, taking the bait.

"For saving you," Marguerite answered smugly.

Malone blinked at her. "You made me jump into a raptor pit. Then you broke my ankle." Malone's feminine face started to redden and his voice grew sharper. "To top it all off you had me run through a stinking tunnel with a hungry predator at my heels!" He was standing at this point and leaning over Marguerite.

Undaunted by Malone's tone, Marguerite glared up at him. "If you wanted to be a dinosaur's lunch, you should have said so! I apologize for interrupting."

Malone threw up his hands in exasperation and slumped back down in his chair. "I can't believe you two went along with such a ridiculous plan!" he ranted at the others.

"Actually," Roxton said, with a glance at Marguerite, "the plan was to give the Lanadu the jewels and then secure your release with our guns."

"Before Marguerite decided to fool around with the jewels," Veronica chimed in, frowning at Marguerite.

"Oh, and I suppose the t-rex showing up was my fault too," Marguerite said defensively to the three sharp stares focused on her. She folded her thick biceps across her chest and looked away in annoyance.

Veronica sighed and shrugged. "Either way, the jewels are gone now. The bag was swallowed along with the chief."

Marguerite didn't reply but started to examine her cuticles.

Roxton face, which had been smiling thinly at Veronica's comment, fell. "The Lanadu's stones _were_ in the bag, weren't they, Marguerite?"

"Marguerite?" Veronica started, sitting up straight in her chair.

"Could I trouble someone for some help over here?" Challenger's voice interrupted from the direction of the lab. The scientist appeared halfway up the stairs, stumbling under the weight of the machine.

Roxton quickly got up to help him, but not without a suspicious look at Marguerite as he walked past. The two men heaved Challenger's invention onto the kitchen table, and Challenger wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand.

"I thought I'd bring it in here seeing as how Malone-er- Marguerite isn't very mobile at the moment," Challenger explained.

"You fixed it?" Malone asked eagerly. The journalist practically jumped out of his chair to examine the machine that had caused him so much trouble.

"I believe so," Challenger replied unconvincingly. When all eyes turned on him, he quickly added, "The rest of us should step into the next room as a precaution."

Roxton helped Marguerite hobble over to the table to stand beside Malone, and Challenger rested his fingers on the machine's switch.

"Ready?" the scientist asked.

Malone and Marguerite exchanged glances. "Here goes nothing," Malone muttered.

Challenger threw the switch, and the machine came to life. It lit up and some of the mechanical pieces started to spin. Roxton, Veronica, and Challenger made a hasty exit, ducking down the stairs into Challenger's lab.

The machine's swirling was starting to become more demanding and the air was crackling with unseen electricity. Marguerite was about to ask Malone if he thought it was working when a bright glow appeared in each of their chests. The lights started to burn and a scream died in Marguerite's throat as the glowing orbs jumped from their bodies. Both of them slumped to the floor.

Hearing the two thumps, the other explorers decided to cautiously make their way back into the room. The first thing they saw was the machine, its light was fading and the spinning components were gradually losing speed. Malone and Marguerite were lying, unmoving on the floor, and the explorers exchanged worried looks.

"I don't think it worked," Veronica moaned.

Roxton hurried over to his unconscious friends but then hesitated. He looked from one body to the other and, finally making up his mind, the hunter crouched down beside Malone's body.

"Marguerite? Can you here me? Marguerite!"

"I don't understand it!" Challenger muttered to himself. "It appeared to be in perfect working order."

Suddenly, the eyes flew open in Marguerite's body.

"What happened?" Marguerite's body asked groggily.

"Malone?" Veronica asked slowly, leaning over the person on the floor.

"You've got to be kidding me! It didn't work?" Marguerite's body demanded. Her hands went to her head in frustration, and she froze as her fingertips touched her hair. "Wha-" Marguerite sat up quickly and began running her hands along her body. "I'm back!" she cried. "I'm me again!"

"Marguerite?" Roxton broke into a wide smile and quickly dropped Malone's head, which he had been cradling in his arms. He rushed over to Marguerite who was struggling, unsteadily to her feet.

Malone's eyes opened in response to his head being rudely dropped to the hard floor, and he took in his surroundings with disorientation. "Did it work?" he managed.

"Success!" Challenger cried.

Veronica laughed and kneeled down beside the confused reporter to catch him in a big bear hug. Malone cried out as she put pressure on his broken ankle.

---

The ankle wasn't actually broken, only sprained and bruised, but Malone muttered that for the pain, it might as well be broken. Veronica just smiled and continued to wrap the stiff cloth around Malone's injured ankle to support it. Normally, she would have told Malone to stop feeling sorry for himself but right now she had an eternal supply of tolerance. The craziness of the last few days was finally over, and she had her old reporter back. Veronica couldn't stop smiling.

"I should have known Marguerite couldn't be trusted with my body," Malone said and then he winced as Veronica tightened the bandage.

Veronica laughed. "I could have told you that."

Malone's eyes finally left his injured ankle and he glanced up shyly at Veronica. "Look Veronica," he began, "I'm sorry for everything she- well I'm just sorry for everything."

Veronica's eyes remained fixed on the cloth in her hands, her cheeks slightly pink. "It's alright, Malone. I think you already said enough at the bathing lake. Even if you were Marguerite at the time."

"Oh, right." Now it was Malone's turn to be embarrassed. Now that Veronica knew that he had said those things to her, he felt extremely uncomfortable but he certainly wouldn't take any of it back.

"Finished," Veronica announced, and she started putting all her first aid equipment back into its box.

"Thanks." Malone bent his knee and leaned forward to examine her handiwork. "You know, I wouldn't be upset if you wanted to take me back to bathing lake again," Malone said, playfully, his eyes lifting to look in Veronica's. "Seeing as how you appreciated my insightful conversation."

Veronica smiled wirily and swatted him on the shoulder. As she was standing up, she bent toward him. "We'll see."

Just as Veronica disappeared into the next room, Roxton slipped cautiously in from the balcony. He glanced around fugitively, until he was satisfied that Malone was the only one in the room. The hunter entered farther into the room but stopped a very comfortable distance from the reporter.

Malone immediately felt himself tense, and the goofy smile Veronica had given him, melted from his face. Before Malone could stop it, an image of Roxton leaning toward him replayed itself in his mind and he shivered.

"Roxton," Malone managed politely.

"Malone," Roxton replied.

Roxton cleared his throat stiffly. "How's the ankle?"

Malone patted the bandages as he answered the safe question. "Veronica says it isn't a break so I should be able to walk real soon."

"Good, good." Roxton nodded. He had positioned himself behind a chair. Malone couldn't help thinking that Roxton was using it like a shield, and he was glad for it.

There was an uncomfortable silence as the two men looked everywhere, except at each other.

"Roxton I-" Malone began.

"Malone it-" Roxton said in unison.

They both stopped abruptly, both thinking about the same uncomfortable incident.

Roxton tried again, his eyes still avoiding Malone's. "Obviously I thought you were Marguerite and- uh-"

"It's probably better if we don't talk about it," Malone interrupted quickly. "Ever."

"Never happened," Roxton agreed, in his best 'manly' voice.

Malone figured that a confirming handshake was probably proper in this situation, but Roxton wasn't making any move to approach the journalist.

Roxton turned to leave but then he hesitated. "I'm sure Challenger won't say anything."

Malone shook his head. "Definitely not." Roxton turned again to leave, when Malone added, "But then there's Marguerite."

The lord's shoulders slumped.

"Maybe you could talk to her…" Malone suggested awkwardly.

Roxton let out a loud sigh. "Yeah, I guess I'm going to have to."

---

Marguerite couldn't get the image of Malone drooling on her pillow out of her head. True, he had been in her body at the time, but Marguerite had vigorously changed the bedding regardless.

She was finishing smoothing down her bedspread when she felt Roxton's teasing smile behind her.

"Doing housework?" Roxton asked with amusement. "So this was a positive experience after all."

"Don't get used to it. I'm just trying to get the _Malone_ off of everything." She wrinkled her nose as she noticed her fingers. Malone had practically massacred her long, carefully manicured nails.

"Well, I suppose its good to have you back to normal anyway."

Marguerite turned to look at him, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "You're just glad I don't have Malone's fists to hit you with again."

"I'll admit I was taken a bit off guard."

Marguerite rolled her eyes. "Hmmm. And that's mascara around your eye."

Marguerite reached for her hairbrush and started to run it through her tangled curls. Roxton watched her silently for a few seconds and then he slowly started to circle her small room. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but she was aware of his every movement. She had to admit that she preferred this teasing, cautious Roxton over the threatening one that she had got in a fistfight with. There had been times in the heiress' life that she had run into frustrating obstacles where things would have been simpler if she was a man, and she had actually wished she was one. Never again.

"What are you looking for?" Marguerite asked nonchalantly as Roxton continued to circle.

"Just wondering if you would keep the Lanadu's jewels in here," he answered smoothly, idly looking under a scarf.

"You saw the t-rex eat them," Marguerite reminded him.

Roxton nodded. "But I don't think Veronica believes it. I'm sure she would know where to look in the tree house…" His voice trailed off and Marguerite put her hands on her hips.

She couldn't believe they were going to bother her with this. The accursed gems were presently being digested by a temperamental dinosaur….as far as her friends knew. Roxton was watching her out of the corner of his eye, and she suddenly knew what was bothering him. She fought a smile.

"If you can forget about the jewels," she offered seriously, "then I can forget any other…embarrassing incidents from the last few days."

Roxton considered this for a second as if she was driving a hard bargain. "What jewels?" he said with a smile.

Marguerite smiled back at him and then headed for the door. She paused in the doorway and threw back at him, "What kiss?"

Roxton's face fell, but she was already gone.

Marguerite breezed out into the common room, ignoring the others as she searched the kitchen for the teapot. She filled the battered kettle with water and hung it over the small fire. In her peripheral vision, she saw Roxton enter the room but she turned her back to him and smiled at her reflection in the tea kettle.

While she was rummaging around for a cup and saucer, she listened idly to the excited conversation near her.

"It's remarkable," Challenger told Malone and Veronica, his arms waving in emphasis. "Can you even fathom the possibilities such a device creates?"

Malone glanced at Veronica. "No, not really."

Challenger stopped in his tracks and scratched his beard absently. "Yes, well. Exchange of consciousness is still an amazing discovery." The others were all smiling quietly at Challenger's enthusiasm but they froze at his next comment, "I must start my experiments immediately."

"You're going to actually use it again?" Roxton asked in disbelief.

Challenger had made his way to the kitchen table and was attempting to pick up the cumbersome machine. "Of course," he answered distractedly. "I'll have to repeat the phenomenon to properly harness it."

"You've got to be kidding," Marguerite said.

Challenger heaved the heavy device into his arms and started to wobble towards his lab. Roxton moved to help him but the scientist waved him off. "I've got it," he huffed. Challenger started slowly down the stairs and out of sight.

Malone shook his head and picked up his journal, which Veronica had brought to him so he wouldn't have to walk on his ankle. He had to get this down before it faded. Well, at least most of it. Some of it.

"Well, good luck recruiting guinea pigs," Marguerite called after Challenger. Roxton and Veronica joined her in a laugh before continuing on their own activities.

Malone's brow furrowed and he started flipping through his journal pages faster.

Veronica noticed his sudden discomfort. "Malone?"

Malone looked up at her, his face struggling with anger. "Veronica," he asked, as calmly as possible, "is there a red pencil around here I could use?"

When Veronica paused to think, Marguerite, who was pouring her tea, answered without thinking. "There's one in the first drawer at the desk." As soon as she said it, Marguerite knew it was a mistake and she bit her lip.

It was then that Veronica noticed what had so enraged Malone. His journal pages were crowded with crisscrossing, thick red marks.

Malone started to get up but suddenly a large crash distracted the explorers. It had come from the direction of Challenger's lab and some loud curses soon followed. Apparently, they wouldn't have to worry about further body-switching experiments any time soon.

When Challenger reappeared on the stairs, he was holding his back and glowering darkly. "I fell," he growled.

Marguerite smiled weakly, picturing what had made the lab floor slippery. "Hasn't Malone cleaned up that broken experiment yet?" she asked.

The End


End file.
